But as fine as Lingbo’s plans were, she had arrived a little early. One look around and she recognized almost every face — all the young scions she had already encountered at last year’s Flower-Banquet. Han Yueqi had arrived though, and seeing them come, she walked over from a distance to meet them.

Lingbo immediately slipped quietly to her side and asked in a low voice: “Where’s Cui Jingyu?”

Han Yueqi told her just as quietly and conspiratorially: “The Northern Garrison Army isn’t due until the hour of you. Marquis Wei and Madam Wei will be coming too. It’s still quite early.”

“They’re doing garrison rounds even on the Lantern Festival,” Lingbo said. She knew the Northern Garrison Army’s routines thoroughly.

The Lantern Festival walk to drive away illness mostly took place along Baixi Street beneath the South City wall — less than half a li of street, long since packed full with vendors of every kind: lantern stalls, food stalls, tea stalls, and toy stalls selling porcelain rabbits and porcelain geese and all manner of little trinkets for girls like Yanyan. The lantern riddle stalls alone stretched out in one long blazing row, lighting up the whole street like the middle of the day.

Han Yueqi was as capable as ever: she had booked the best spot on the street well in advance — a teahouse right below the South Gate tower, directly facing the city gate, which gave the most commanding view of all of Baixi Street. She had brought dozens of household servants and attendants, thrown open all the windows and doors, set up tables on every floor, hung the Shen Family lanterns high, had the finest pastries and hot tea prepared, and invited only the ladies and young misses with whom she was on close terms. The scene was magnificent.

“Let’s go upstairs and wait.” Han Yueqi led them up, and they settled at a few small tables along the upstairs railing, with a full view over the whole of Baixi Street — anyone who arrived would be visible at a glance. The Ye sisters all took their seats. Yanyan spotted the pastries and happily set about eating.

Lingbo caught the look on Han Yueqi’s face and understood her intent at once. She exchanged a smile with her.

“It’s still a long time until the hour of you,” she told Han Yueqi. “You stay with Qinglan — I need to go find someone.”

Shen Biwei guarded against her like a thief: “I’m coming too.”

“Stop making trouble — I have serious business to attend to.” Seeing Shen Biwei’s face fall, Ye Lingbo laughed. “Don’t be cross. Haven’t you always wanted to teach me to ride? The polo banquet is in a couple of days — I’ll let you teach me then. Isn’t that good?”

Shen Biwei brightened slightly at that, but knowing Lingbo was only coaxing her along on behalf of Pei Zhao, she lifted her head again with that air of proud disdain.

“Go on, then. Do you think I don’t know who you’re going to find?” She issued a threat: “Don’t let me catch the two of you — I’ll squeeze every bit of his scheming guts out.”

Lingbo laughed the whole way to Pei Zhao’s front gate on the strength of that line.

“Miss.” Xiao Liu’er could not help reminding her. Lingbo caught herself and quickly reined in the smile.

That fellow Pei Zhao — even his pettiness was exactly like Shen Biwei’s. If she went to him laughing, she would never be able to talk him back around. But she could not explain why she kept wanting to laugh. Liu Ji had gone ahead to announce her, and Lingbo used the moment to look around. This area was close to Madam Wei’s residence — the Northern Garrison Army had been largely dispersed after the New Year, and the officers who remained were all quartered around here.

Pei Zhao lived in a small two-courtyard house — a very small one, the kind meant for an ordinary family of four or five, no different from a commoner’s home. In front of the gate, a persimmon tree had been planted, bearing a few wizened persimmons that had survived the winter, looking thoroughly forlorn.

The sight of it made Lingbo want to scold him all over again. Both were generals — look at what kind of residence Cui Jingyu occupied now, and here was Pei Zhao, huddling in this place. What a waste of all that talent. But today she needed to stroke him the right way — if she started on him for being unambitious again, she would only set him off.

Liu Ji went in to announce her and led her through the gate. As expected, Pei Zhao was home. Also as expected, he was not dressed properly — he looked as though he had just finished practicing martial arts, wearing only a light inner robe in the northern style, pale white, which made his complexion look like polished jade. No hat, hair gathered simply with a ribbon — and still handsome enough to resemble a god from the paintings. Seeing Lingbo, he did not offer a single word of greeting, just sat on the stone drum in the courtyard and went on polishing his sword by himself.

Lingbo suppressed the urge to scold him and walked over. Xiao Liu’er tried to smooth things over with a smile: “Pei Zhao the General — our Miss is so good to you, isn’t she? Knowing you’d enjoy the festivity outside, she came especially to invite you to the Lantern Festival. Please come get dressed.”

Pei Zhao acted as though he had not heard a word. This fellow in his proud moods was truly infuriating. He would not say a single word back, and Xiao Liu’er’s face flushed red.

Lingbo felt her temper rising at the sight, walked over and gave his boot a kick. “Get up.”

“My leg’s broken. I can’t.” Pei Zhao even spoke in an aggravating way.

It was unfortunate it was not New Year’s Eve, or she would truly have given him something to regret. This man had the nerve to criticize others — going around saying unlucky things like that over a holiday.

Lingbo did not bother engaging with him, and told Xiao Liu’er: “Go. Find that white garment of his.”

Liu Ji was quick on the uptake and had already located it. Heavy embroidered satin was by nature more precious the lighter its color — light colors tolerated no flaws in their weaving, and thus aside from vermilion and purple, pale-colored embroidered satin garments were equally difficult to produce.

Still the floral branches, flowing water, and feather patterns — but this time not a peacock but a luan bird. Tailors always took care to create harmonious correspondences. The previous green garment had been embroidered in gold thread with a white peacock. This white one was embroidered with a blue-green luan bird. Though it could not match Qinglan’s moonlight robe, it was still like wearing half a courtyard on one’s person.

And still that insufferable Pei Zhao would not put it on. Xiao Liu’er stood holding the garment, watched him remain motionless, and looked helplessly at Lingbo.

Lingbo gave him another kick: “Get up. Put on the clothes. I’m taking you to see the lanterns.”

“I’m not going.” Pei Zhao folded his arms.

Lingbo clicked her tongue with contempt.

“If you’re not going to the Lantern Festival, what are you going to do, sit here? Look at this place of yours — what’s the difference between this and a pigpen?”

Pei Zhao’s home was actually fairly tidy, if sparse. Lingbo was not performing at her usual best today. Seeing that insults were getting nowhere, she shifted to the angle of encouraging his advancement: “Come on, get up, change your clothes and come with me. The Lantern Festival is a major occasion — all the Northern Garrison Army’s officers are going, Marquis Wei and Madam Wei will be there too. Word is even the Grand Princess will be attending.”

“All the more reason for me not to go.” Pei Zhao was spectacularly unmovable. “I’m not the sort who belongs in elevated company.”

Lingbo was not someone with an especially patient temper, and this was coming from someone who was usually all smiles around her. She had tried twice and been ignored, and now her brows snapped together.

“I’m getting angry.” She fixed him with a glare. “Get up. Put on those clothes. Did you hear me?”

Pei Zhao knew she was about to be truly exasperated, glanced at the clothes, and seemed about to rise — then said: “I can’t wear these clothes.”

“Why not? They were made for you.”

“I’m too tall for them. They won’t fit. Leave them for a short person.”

Lingbo found him completely baffling.

“What tall person and short person — don’t talk in riddles.” She could see he was being perfectly obstinate, and could no longer hold back: “If you don’t get up right now, I’m going to hit you.”

Pei Zhao did not move. Lingbo went ahead and pinched him twice, and just as she was about to do it again, Pei Zhao suddenly rose to his feet and caught her hand. He looked at her calmly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Being pinned by Pei Zhao’s gaze like that, she felt an inexplicable flicker of alarm — even feeling, herself, that she had been rather too bold. He was, after all, a general, and when he was truly provoked, he was not to be trifled with.

But Pei Zhao let go of her hand. His eyes held not the faintest trace of amusement. Lingbo looked at him and felt something unfamiliar — yet she also knew, clearly, that this was still Pei Zhao. If anything, he felt even closer than he had up the mountain a few days ago — though she could not have said why.

The atmosphere between them had gone stiff. Xiao Liu’er, seeming to read something in the air, suddenly said: “Miss, let’s head back — otherwise Shen Miss will come looking.”

“Which Shen Miss?” Pei Zhao abruptly joined in.

He had been impossible to budge all day, and now at this of all moments, he chose to respond.

“Shen Biwei of the Shen Family, of course,” Xiao Liu’er said, looking puzzled. “Pei Zhao the General, didn’t you meet her on the mountain just a few days ago? She and our Miss are the closest of friends — they’ve grown up together since childhood. Our Miss is not afraid of anyone, but she is rather wary of her.”

“I’m not wary of anyone.” Lingbo looked at her with contempt.

Yet Shen Biwei’s inexplicable hostility toward Pei Zhao was real. In Shen Biwei’s own words, if she ever tracked him down, she would absolutely squeeze his scheming guts out.

Probably Lingbo’s struggle to look composed was too amusing. Pei Zhao looked at her, and a smile broke across his face again.

As though he had heard Shen Biwei’s threat, he smiled and asked Lingbo: “Shen Miss sounds very formidable. If she bullies me at the Lantern Festival, what am I to do?”

“You’re this big, sturdy as anything — who could bully you?” Lingbo looked at him with the fullness of her contempt, and then, seeing he was relenting, caught herself and quickly pressed the advantage: “Still standing there smiling? Put the clothes on and get out the door — keep dragging it out and there’ll be no lanterns left to see, never mind anything else.”

Pei Zhao was genuinely peculiar — with no apparent cause for his anger, and no apparent cause for being placated. He took the clothes and made as though to change right there. Lingbo gave a start and unleashed a stream of scolding: “Are you trying to die? Not in front of everyone — go inside and change, then come back out.”

She really was too easy to fool. By the time Pei Zhao was laughing, she realized he had been teasing her, and tried to kick him in revenge. Pei Zhao sidestepped neatly, went inside, changed, and came back out — and the whole courtyard seemed suddenly brighter for it.

If Qinglan’s grace was like the moon, then Pei Zhao’s and A’Cuo’s kind of beauty was more like sunlight — dazzling and direct. Beautiful young women were not uncommon, but beautiful young men were rarer, and Pei Zhao’s looks were therefore all the more striking. She did not know how many well-born young ladies would be waiting for him to appear tonight.

“Thank you for the honor of wearing your gifted clothing, Miss.” He was marginally better-behaved now, but still insufferably cheeky, deliberately leaning in close to Lingbo and playing the obedient attendant.

“So you do know that, do you?” Lingbo could not help feeling rather pleased: “Today it’s a good thing it was me who came. Anyone else — who would care whether you went to the Lantern Festival or rotted here?”

“Quite so, quite so.” Xiao Liu’er was perfectly devoted in her agreement: “Our Miss takes the very best care of her own people. All of us who follow Miss have been better off year on year. Pei Zhao the General — please don’t quarrel with our Miss. Let her take charge of you, and she won’t steer you wrong.”

Pei Zhao, still smiling pleasantly: “Is that so? Then am I to put myself under Miss’s authority going forward?”

“You are one of my people, naturally you answer to me. Even if Xiao Liu’er and the others quarrel with me, I’ll still sort it out and set them right.” Lingbo lifted her chin with great self-satisfaction.

“So I’m one of your people?” Pei Zhao smiled at her.

He had been taking this posture with her frequently of late — because he was taller than her, he would bow his head down, but it was always an unhurried, patient posture, looking into her eyes as he smiled. Perhaps it was the peach-blossom quality of his eyes, but it always gave one the feeling of being warmly regarded.

Lingbo was not willing to take the bait.

“Don’t joke around. You’re dressed, so let’s go — Liu Ji, get him a lantern. We’ve still got a quarter of an hour’s walk to Baixi Street, and at this rate, Cui Jingyu and his people must already be there.”