It went without saying that the Grand Princess’s residence set an excellent table. Though only the two Ye sisters were dining, the proprieties were observed in full: Female Official Su personally attended to the guests, palace maids streamed in and out like flowing water bearing dish after dish, and the spread followed the protocols of an imperial banquet. While it fell somewhat short of imperial banquet grandeur, abalone, sea cucumber, shark’s fin, and fish maw were all present, and one dish of deer sinew was particularly fine — one glance was enough to tell it had come from palace kitchens.

Yet as Master Ye had once said, when he had first attended an imperial banquet after his promotion and returned home to share the experience with his daughters: those who attend imperial banquets have no mind left to notice whether the food is good. Even the rarest delicacies go down wooden and tasteless — not from fear, but from overstimulation, the tongue stripped of all sensation.

But that was more than a decade ago. Back then, Lingbo had still been the little daughter who pestered Master Ye with questions about what imperial banquets tasted like. Today, she sat here, heart unsettled, future uncertain — and not for a single moment did she think of her father as someone she could lean on.

Even counting on Yanyan or A’Cuo would be more reliable than counting on Master Ye.

—

Back at the Wutong Courtyard, with both elder sisters taken away, the place had dissolved into chaos.

Had either one been taken alone, it would not have been like this — not because the other could hold things together, but because these two sisters moved in such different circles that, had they not been family, they would never have crossed paths at all. What could possibly require both of them to be summoned away for questioning?

A’Cuo couldn’t imagine it. Neither could Yang Niangzi. But Yang Niangzi was, after all, a household manager who had weathered difficulties before, and she remained reasonably composed. As she put it herself: “We came through worse than this back then. What is this compared to that? The Grand Princess has merely summoned the two young ladies for questioning — it may even be good news. Let’s not panic. We’ll inform the young Madam Shen and leave it at that. No need to alarm Young Master Lin from the Lin family.”

She had not thought to disturb Master Ye in the other courtyard, and A’Cuo understood this even better. A’Cuo was five months older than Yanyan, and she immediately assumed command with an air of authority. “Yanyan and I will go inform Elder Sister Han,” she said. “The rest of you watch the house. If there’s any news, come find us at the Shen household. Have Liu Ji go and keep watch near the Princess’s residence…”

Though she affected an air of experience, A’Cuo had never truly faced a crisis before and was, at heart, panicking. It is the nature of urgency to narrow the mind — she could think of nothing beyond going to Elder Sister Han.

Yang Niangzi felt vaguely that something was off, but they were the mistresses of the house, and as household manager, she could only offer suggestions, not overstep her place. She was still hesitating when Yanyan spoke.

Yang Niangzi knew this third young lady well — had watched her grow up from childhood. Yanyan had spent her days eating and playing, sheltered by her two elder sisters, utterly unbothered by worldly affairs. Any idea she put forward was generally not to be trusted.

Yet she put forward an idea.

“What’s the use of both of us going to the Shen household?” Yanyan said, not the least bit flustered, with a cheerful smile. “I think it would be better if you go to the Shen household to find Elder Sister Han, and I go to the Wei household.”

A’Cuo blinked. “Why are you going to the Wei household?”

“Think about it — what else could the Grand Princess have on her mind today but the matter of the Northern Vanguard Army wives blocking her palanquin to file a complaint? The sisters were just talking about that when they got summoned. Her Highness must have called them over because of this — otherwise, why would she set aside such a matter and summon the sisters for idle chat?” Yanyan’s manner was light, but every word was sound. “The matter of the Northern Vanguard Army wives is the Wei family’s matter. So I’ll go to the Wei household and ask Madam Wei — they’re the ones who stirred this up, and now Her Highness has taken both our sisters away. If I don’t ask her, who do I ask?”

A’Cuo found the suggestion almost absurd, yet she could not find fault with it. It was Yang Niangzi whose eyes lit up.

“Yes, the Third Young Lady is quite right. This matter ought to be taken to Madam Wei. And Madam Wei is a woman of backbone — deeply responsible. Going to her will certainly help.” True to her nature as a capable household manager, Yang Niangzi immediately began to extrapolate: “And there is Marquis Cui as well — he is also the most responsible of men, though when it comes to the broken engagement…”

That veered into sensitive territory. She closed her mouth, but her eyes were bright with purpose — nothing like the frantic look of moments before.

A’Cuo regarded Yanyan with suspicion. Yanyan’s suggestion did seem like the best solution, but ordinarily this girl was so unreliable that she would light up with joy over a plate of pastries — hardly someone whose counsel inspired confidence.

“Then let me be the one to go to Madam Wei,” A’Cuo offered. She found her thoughts drifting to Wei Yushan, and her heart gave an unbidden flutter.

Wei Yushan, at least, was dependable. Even if Madam Wei turned out to be less responsible than they said, A’Cuo was confident she could at least drag Wei Yushan into this.

If Wei Yushan ended up hating her for it, so be it. As long as both sisters came home safely, everything else could be endured.

“Then we might as well all go to Madam Wei together,” Yanyan said, still smiling. “Let Yang Niangzi go to Elder Sister Han — she has a measured way of speaking. Otherwise, if Elder Sister Shen hears about this, it’ll set off a whole other crisis.”

A’Cuo still felt that something was slightly off, but could not pinpoint what. And Yang Niangzi was visibly energized and clearly in agreement with Yanyan, saying: “The Third Young Lady is right. Since we don’t yet know what’s happened, going straight to the Grand Princess would be unwise — a good matter could turn into a bad one. Miss Shen tends to lose her head when she’s worried, so it’s best I speak to her myself. Let the Third Young Lady and the young Miss go to the Wei household. That way, if I can’t keep Miss Shen calm, I can send her to the Wei household to find the two of you and discuss the next step together. It’s settled then — Lin Niangzi, accompany the two young ladies to the Wei household; Luo Niangzi, stay here and watch the house; I’ll make a trip to the Shen household and report back.”

The arrangements were well-considered. A’Cuo, whatever her reservations about Yanyan, trusted Yang Niangzi’s judgment, and said nothing more. The carriage happened to be ready, so she and Yanyan boarded together and made for the Wei household without further delay.

That Yanyan — not anxious in the slightest, still smiling. That was one thing. But as they were about to board, she turned and added one more instruction to Yang Niangzi: “Yang Niangzi, if Elder Sister Shen is truly frantic, just tell her to go ask her grandfather for help. No one else will be of any use.”

Yang Niangzi, who had been listening to Yanyan all evening, answered agreeably and climbed into her own palanquin bound for the Shen household.

A’Cuo and Yanyan sat together in the carriage. Now that they had a plan, A’Cuo felt calmer. She had found Yanyan oddly unfamiliar this afternoon, but when Yanyan slid open the hidden compartment in the carriage wall and began rummaging for preserved fruits to eat, that unfamiliarity dissolved entirely.

“Just as I thought, still here.” Yanyan rummaged through the contents with abandon. The hidden compartment ordinarily held letters and similar items, but Yanyan paid no attention to any of that, intent only on finding something to eat. A’Cuo couldn’t bear to watch. “Don’t go through the sisters’ things,” she scolded.

“All right, all right, I won’t.” Yanyan immediately assumed an expression of perfect innocence and pushed the compartment shut. No one knew when the hidden compartment had been installed — the carriage wall was so smooth one could not feel it at all. It was obvious, though, what it was for: the sisters had prepared it so that if chaos broke out at home, they could board the carriage and flee without stopping to pack anything. It was a precaution against Concubine Pan Yu Rong and Master Ye from the other courtyard.

But Yanyan had no appreciation whatsoever for the compartment’s significance, using it to store snacks. That was already exasperating enough — and then she held a piece out to A’Cuo. “Do you want some?”

A’Cuo felt like glaring at her.

“Both sisters have been taken away, and all you can do is eat? Away with you.”

Yanyan took the scolding with perfectly good grace. Since A’Cuo would not eat, she ate double portions for herself, eating the whole way there, stopping only when they arrived at the Wei household.

A’Cuo had no patience to deal with her. She had Lin Niangzi go and present their calling card. She had been about to explain the situation clearly, but Yanyan said again: “Madam Wei isn’t dim — she’ll certainly know why we’ve come. Just send in the calling card.”

A’Cuo thought it over and conceded the point. Whether Madam Wei knew or not was a secondary concern; the matter of the Northern Vanguard Army wives filing a complaint was no small thing, with many parties involved, and it was best not to leave any words that could be passed around.

As expected, the moment the card was presented, Madam Wei sent word from the inner courtyard to admit them immediately. Their carriage pulled in and stopped in the inner courtyard, where Madam Wei was already waiting, her expression complicated, her face showing traces of illness. Wei Leshui stood beside her.

Yanyan, constitutionally incapable of behaving properly for more than a moment, jumped down from the carriage and called out to Madam Wei. Madam Wei responded warmly, but Yanyan did not address the matter at hand — she went straight to take Wei Leshui’s hand.

Since Yanyan wasn’t going to speak, A’Cuo would. After exchanging greetings with Madam Wei, A’Cuo explained everything on the path before they even reached the hall: “Madam Wei, the Grand Princess sent a female official to take both elder sisters away for questioning. I believe it is likely connected to today’s matter of the Northern Vanguard Army wives filing a complaint, and so I’ve come to ask if you have any news.”

Madam Wei listened, and her surprise was genuine. She considered it for a moment, and her expression grew more complicated still.

“We have no news from our end — our people are still at the Princess’s residence and have not come out.” She looked ashamed. “On our side, it is truly inconvenient to send anyone to the Princess’s residence again.”

“Then what about Marquis Wei?” A’Cuo pressed. “Surely the Marquis has some information.”

“The Marquis is attending a banquet at the Chen household…” Madam Wei hesitated. “Even if he were here, he could not be the one to go and ask.”

“Then what about Elder Brother Jingyu?” Yanyan had been chattering with Wei Leshui, but her ears were sharp — she immediately piped up with this.

“Jingyu and Yushan both went with the Marquis to the Chen household. I’m told the Emperor went in person and had them compete in mounted archery — hunting a particular bird, with the one who caught it to be called the champion, earning the right to loose the first arrow at the spring hunt. So they’ve all been confined to the hunting grounds. They say no one is permitted to leave until the result is known…” Madam Wei said.

As she walked, she led the two of them toward an inner room to be served tea. A’Cuo listened with deepening consternation and growing impatience.

Madam Wei wouldn’t go. Marquis Wei wouldn’t go. Cui Jingyu and Wei Yushan weren’t even available. No one could go to the Princess’s residence to gather information — so this trip to the Wei household had been a complete waste of time after all. Yanyan’s idea really was unreliable.

But the unreliable one had no awareness of this at all, and had fallen into conversation with Wei Leshui beside them.

“What bird are they hunting, exactly?”

“A peregrine falcon, I’m told.” Wei Leshui was well versed in all matters of birds and beasts from the frontier. “The peregrine is the fastest of all birds — faster than anything else that flies…”

“Then why doesn’t the Northern Vanguard Army use peregrine falcons to carry messages?” Yanyan asked.

“The peregrine is fast, but it cannot be commanded. It cannot be tamed. Pigeons are obedient but far too weak — never mind being shot down by enemies on the road, they’d be lost to any random bird of prey they encountered. So in our army, we use Siberian goshawks. But goshawks are rare too — only generals and above use them. For ordinary communication, beacon fires and dispatch riders suffice.” Wei Leshui patiently explained.

A’Cuo’s eyes lit up.

“Does your family still have a Siberian goshawk now?” she asked immediately.

“Yes — there are two at the camp right now. One belongs to my father, and one to Elder Brother Jingyu.” Wei Leshui caught on at once and turned to Madam Wei. “Mother, let’s send a message to Elder Brother Jingyu by goshawk. The Grand Princess already thinks highly of him — having him go and inquire after Elder Sister Ye’s situation would be best.”

Madam Wei hesitated, then, thinking that those two seemed far from finished with their entanglement, could only nod.

A’Cuo was overjoyed.

Madam Wei called for someone to bring the goshawk and prepared to write the letter herself. A’Cuo stood beside Madam Wei watching her compose the message, paying no attention to whoever had brought the bird in — until she heard Yanyan say, “Oh, why is it you?”

A’Cuo looked up. Standing there was the young general she had glimpsed that day at Elder Sister Han’s teahouse, the one her second sister seemed to have spoken with quietly off to one side. He was rather fine-looking — even dressed as casually as he was today, it was as though moonlight had entered the room, illuminating the entire hall.

Madam Wei was somewhat surprised as well. “Young General Pei, why are you not at the Chen household banquet?”

“I went, but they were all out there hunting birds, and if they couldn’t catch one they’d seal off the hunting grounds indefinitely. Tedious. So I came back early.” Pei Zhao smiled pleasantly. “What is it, Madam — are you sending a message to the hunting grounds?”

The matter involved women’s affairs, so Madam Wei did not elaborate. She only said, “There is some news to send to the hunting grounds.”

Yet Yanyan seemed to recognize him. She abandoned Wei Leshui entirely and stood nearby studying him with great interest. Pei Zhao appeared accustomed to being observed and remained entirely at ease, smiling amiably and looking back at her.

“What is it?” A’Cuo asked Yanyan.

“Nothing, just that he looks familiar.” Yanyan pointed at him and said, “I seem to remember seeing you talking with Liu Ji — if Xiao Liu’er hadn’t gone to the Princess’s residence with Second Sister today, it would be perfect. She’d definitely know you.”

Pei Zhao raised an eyebrow.

“Why did your sister go to the Princess’s residence?”

“The Grand Princess summoned her and our Elder Sister for questioning. They went this afternoon and haven’t come back yet.” Yanyan was candid with him.

Pei Zhao only said, “Ah.”

“This goshawk is too sluggish — use mine instead,” he said to Madam Wei. “Mine has a particular fondness for pecking at Wei Yushan. It will definitely get the message through.”