In the middle of two nations at war, an envoy of mysterious origin, a cryptic letter, and an extraordinary gift — bringing with them a request so audacious it bordered on the absurd. In an instant it was like a great stone cast into water, sending a thousand ripples crashing outward.
When it came to Turk princes, the world knew only of Hulan — few knew there was a Helu. Prince Helu: this enigmatic heir to the throne, mentioned only in rumor, was someone almost no one could clearly account for.
The ruthless and battle-hardened Prince Hulan was the Turk Khan’s own nephew, his birth father having fallen before Xiao Qi on the battlefield in the old days. Raised from childhood by his uncle, he had been treated like a true-born son, and his temperament had grown to mirror the Khan’s in every way.
The Prince Helu of legend was said to be sickly and incompetent, unable to ride or shoot — and in the eyes of the Turk people, who revered physical prowess above all else, a man who could neither ride a horse nor fight in battle was weaker than a woman and more useless than a child.
Yet it was this obscure and powerless fallen prince who now came to Xiao Qi with a request for an alliance, willing to use the hand of his sworn enemy to kill his own father and surrender territory — all in exchange for the throne.
Ministers at court raised objections in turn. Some suspected that this was nothing more than a Turk ruse to lure our forces into hostile territory and divide and destroy them. Others doubted that a prince so widely dismissed as good-for-nothing could ever overturn the ruling power, and held that lending him soldiers was tantamount to throwing them away. Among the court officials, the Censor of the Imperial Secretariat Wei Yan led the opposition most fiercely. Xiao Qi gave no indication of his position and temporarily tabled the matter. The Turk envoy was held under strict guard at a guesthouse, with imperial guard soldiers keeping close watch, and no one was permitted to enter or exit at will.
Helu Zhen — I murmured that unfamiliar name to myself.
“Speaking of which, we owe a debt of gratitude to this person from our past.” I startled. I had not noticed when Xiao Qi had come to stand at my back.
His voice was quiet and measured, his expression unreadable as he smiled at me. “If he had not brought you to Ningshuo, who knows when you and I might have met.”
I too smiled faintly. Whenever the image of that solitary figure in white came to mind, I always felt a welling of deep feeling. Thinking of the flower and the pearl he had sent, the scene from that cold moonlit night surfaced before me, and in an instant my cheeks grew faintly warm.
“Helan Zhen is a man worthy of respect.” He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. “On the matter of the alliance — what is your view?”
I considered for a moment, then said slowly, “The pact you made with Helan Zhen in those days is naturally not something the court ministers can know of. Now that he is coming to you as agreed to borrow troops, I am inclined to trust that.”
Xiao Qi gave a faint smile and nodded for me to continue.
I hesitated for a brief moment, then after a prolonged silence spoke, “This man hates you to the bone — though the lure of the throne is surely greater than his hatred. Even if he forms an alliance with you today, he will surely turn on you afterward.”
“Quite right — hatred and interest are the most sturdy and reliable foundations in the world.” Xiao Qi’s smile was cold. I lowered my gaze with a sigh. “Hatred — is it truly so fearsome a thing?”
“My A’Wu has yet to know the taste of hatred,” Xiao Qi said, watching me with a smile, his expression complex beyond telling — teasing, yet carrying within it something like wistfulness. “I hope that all your life, you will never have to know it.”
I was deeply moved. With such a man standing guard beside me, even if wind and blade came sharp as frost, what was there to fear?
“Helan Zhen’s alliance with me is not sought solely for the throne.” Xiao Qi smiled faintly.
I was momentarily puzzled. My thoughts turned, and I looked up at him in sudden alarm. “He still seeks revenge?”
“Compared to me, the Turk Khan is a far greater enemy to him.” Xiao Qi sighed. “In the days when he and I fought again and again across the field, he proved himself to be one of enduring resolve and hidden patience — whether as enemy or as ally, a worthy adversary.”
Those dark, ruthless, ever-concealed eyes seemed to pass before me again. What terrible hatred did that man carry buried within him? He had bided his time in Turk territory for years, deliberately making himself appear weak, enduring whatever came from a stronger hand, all in order to stay alive. And yet in his heart, he had long since harbored thoughts of killing — waiting only for the moment when opportunity arrived, and then all his father’s and brothers’ kin would be offered as blood sacrifice to feed his years of deep and accumulated hatred.
I felt a quiet unease, and fixed my gaze on Xiao Qi. “Will you truly form this alliance with Helan Zhen?”
“He is the mantis — I am the sparrow that hunts the mantis. Why would I not?” The corner of Xiao Qi’s thin lips curved in a cold smile.
“Sending a hundred thousand troops into Turk territory — if Helan Zhen turns on us, the consequences would be catastrophic,” I said, frowning with hesitation.
Xiao Qi clasped his hands behind his back and said nothing for a long time. Then, lightly, he said, “If it were you, sharing plans with someone — what would you use to make them trust you?”
I thought for a moment. “Interest.”
Xiao Qi laughed heartily. “Well said. So-called goodwill and good faith are nothing but a facade. What people ultimately seek is benefit — and benefit is the most trustworthy compact there is.”
He paced to the table, unrolling the great map of the realm spread across it. The vast territory lay before him in a single glance, and he smiled with a haughty assurance. “Lending him a hundred thousand troops is easy enough; whether they are returned — that will not be for Helan Zhen to decide.”
Something flashed with sudden clarity in my mind, and the words came out at once: “Turning the guest into the host — making an enemy into a friend?”
Xiao Qi regarded me with an approving look, his eyes burning with intensity. “Precisely — even an enemy can be made reliable. This time, I will help him once more!”
The next day in court, Xiao Qi agreed to Prince Helu’s request for a loan of troops. The alliance was thus established.
Once this plan was set in motion, the crisis in the north would be swiftly resolved. I took the opportunity to plead with Xiao Qi to give my brother a little more time.
The rainy season in the south this year had been unusually protracted, and I was worried my brother would not be able to finish the work in time. But Xiao Qi would not be swayed in the slightest — military orders were absolute and could not be altered.
The half-month deadline arrived in an instant, and we had not received the good news from my brother we had hoped for — the dyke breach now seemed inevitable. The last memorial that Song Huai’an sent back from Chuyang stated that he had already moved troops in and was prepared for the breaching. Yet I could not stand by and watch my brother fail when the finish was so near. All he needed was time — just a little more time would have been enough.
I argued and pleaded with Xiao Qi for half a day to no effect. He had his stubbornness, I had my resolve — neither of us willing to give ground. We had never quarreled this fiercely before. He finally stormed off in exasperation, unwilling to hear another word of my pleas. I sat there in despondency, watching the sky gradually darken, the lanterns of the estate coming one by one to life around me, the palace lights swaying in the wind, flickering in and out. I knew that if no order was given tonight, there would be no more chance to stop it.
Both in public terms and private ones, the lives of tens of thousands of common people and my brother’s all-or-nothing efforts burned like a hot iron against my heart at every moment. And yet the court’s law and the danger at the front were like invisible blades pressing at my throat. It was not until this moment that I truly, deeply understood what Aunt had once said: “A man’s calling is to forge ahead and conquer; a woman’s calling is to shelter and protect.” In my hands lay not only the safety of my brother, of Zidan, and of the entire family — but now also the lives of countless common people! I understood better than anyone the consequences of this impossible choice, and there would be only one chance. Even if it was futile, even if it was a gamble — I had to try.
The candles on the table swayed in their light. At last, I steeled my heart, leaned over the table, and took up my brush.
The alliance talks were proceeding smoothly. Within a few days, the Turk envoy was about to return home, and ten thousand of our troops would immediately take the long route through the western frontier, working in concert with Prince Helu from within, to strike directly at the Turk royal seat from behind.
In Minghuan Hall, Xiao Qi hosted a banquet to see off the Turk envoy who was about to depart.
The strains of Turk music floated through the air, and in the hall, dancing girls in brilliant-colored costumes spun through the Turk Whirl Dance, an astonishing sight for all present. I smiled and raised my cup, inclining slightly toward the envoy below in a gesture of courtesy. The Turk envoy’s gaze went fixed, and it took him a moment to collect himself before hastily lifting his cup. Xiao Qi and I exchanged a glance and smiled; the officials in the hall raised their cups together, and music and song filled the air all around. Then I noticed a eunuch in red robes hastening forward to murmur something close to Xiao Qi’s ear. Without changing his expression, Xiao Qi gave a quiet nod and continued to instruct those at his side to pour wine, laughing and talking as before — with not the faintest trace of anything amiss. Only I could tell: when something weighed on his mind, the corners of his lips would involuntarily press together in what appeared to be a barely perceptible smile. I lowered my eyes, lifted my wine cup, and felt my fingertips tremble faintly.
When the songs ended and the banquet concluded, we made our way back from Minghuan Hall to the estate, palace attendants raising lanterns to light the way ahead, a winding trail of rose-red gauze palace lamps. The entire walk home from the palace, Xiao Qi maintained complete silence, not speaking a single word to me. A quiet comprehension had already settled into my heart, and though I had long since prepared myself for the worst, now that the moment had come, cold sweat soaked through my clothes — as though a rope were winding around my throat, being drawn tighter with each passing second, keeping me suspended on a razor’s edge.
The carriage arrived at the estate. I stepped down from the carriage, and the early spring night wind still carried a few degrees of cold. The wine surged in my head when the wind hit it, and I felt momentarily dizzy. In the past, Xiao Qi would always come to take my arm. Now he did not look back at all, but simply swept his sleeve aside and walked inside. I stood where I was, not moving, my fingertips and my heart both utterly cold. A’Yue stepped forward to take hold of my arm, murmuring softly, “The night has grown cold. Please go inside quickly, Princess Consort.”
All the way through the inner courtyard, standing at the threshold of the bedchamber — the empty courtyard silent behind me, the lamplight within dancing — I did not have the courage to push the door open. I had known all along that this moment would come, and whatever the outcome, I would have to face it myself. I closed my eyes, and said in a flat voice to the maidservants at my side, “All of you, step back.”
I entered the inner room and in a single glance found him standing with his hands clasped behind his back at the window. I came to a halt, my palms turning cold and damp, my heart plunging straight downward.
“Is there a result already?” I asked, fatigue weighing on my voice.
“What result do you wish to know?” His voice was flat and even, giving no indication of his mood.
I bit my lip, straightened my back. “In obstructing the military order, the fault is Wang Xuan’s alone, and nothing to do with anyone else. Whatever the outcome, I accept full responsibility.”
Xiao Qi turned abruptly, his face full of anger. “Obstructing a military order is grounds for exile — what are you basing your claim to ‘accept full responsibility’ on?”
I was silenced. Before I could speak, he reached out and cupped my chin, lifting it upward. His eyes blazed with fury. “You have been on the receiving end of my repeated forbearance and indulgence — and on the basis of that, you had the audacity to obstruct my military order? And even now you show no repentance!”
— On that day, with a secret letter, I had reached Song Huai’an just before the deadline for the dyke breach and compelled him to grant five more days. I knew that the hundred-thousand-strong advance force had already penetrated deep into Jiangnan — every day the reinforcements were delayed, their casualties mounted further. A mere five days was the absolute limit of what I could fight for. If the drainage channels had not been completed by the time those five days passed, I would have had no regrets about the decision I had made that day. Every bit of blame — I would shoulder it alone. It must not bring harm to my brother.
Judging from Xiao Qi’s reaction, it was plain that he already knew I had obstructed the military order — which meant my brother had ultimately not succeeded. My heart had gone utterly cold, and my body stiffened by degrees — yet paradoxically, I grew completely calm. I met his gaze with steadiness, “I had made my resolve — I harbored no thought of a lucky escape. Whether it is crime or punishment, you may deal with me as you see fit.”
“You—!” Xiao Qi was furious, and glared at me for a long moment before violently flicking his sleeve and turning his back, refusing to look at me any further.
I had no heart left for quarreling with him. My mind drifted in a fog — all I could think was, what of my brother? The work of managing the rivers had come to nothing at the very last step — how was he to bear it? The wave of alcohol I had barely suppressed was driven back up by the cold sweat, and I felt as though my head would split open with pain. I pressed my hand to my forehead, turned, and walked out of the inner room — not knowing where I meant to go, only wanting to be alone for a moment, to collect my thoughts.
My wrist was seized, and I was pulled back, stumbling, into his arms. The next moment I felt weightless, lifted from the ground into the crook of his arm, being carried directly toward the bed.
Disappointment and despair had left me with no will to struggle or cling. I pushed at him, wanting to be free — but no matter how I struggled, I could not break loose.
“Wang Xuan!” He suddenly called out my full name, and I froze in place. He gripped my wrist, pressing it firmly against the pillow. In that instant, the pain in my wrist cut through to the bone. I bit my lip hard and refused to let myself cry out.
He bent over me, coldly looking at me. “You are very lucky. This time, you won your gamble.”
For a moment I could not comprehend. I stared at him, not daring to believe what I had just heard.
“You have a brother of outstanding talent and a loyal brother-in-law, who helped you avert a catastrophe.” Xiao Qi’s expression, cold and implacable a moment before, finally showed a glimmer of relief and gladness. “Wang Su and Song Huai’an led three thousand soldiers in an all-day, all-night rush to complete the work, and three days after the deadline for the dyke breach had passed, the drainage channels were finally finished. When the sluice gates were opened, the river was diverted, flowing around Chuyang. The people on both banks were spared a great calamity, and the army was also able to make the crossing successfully!”
In a single moment — the greatest grief and the greatest joy, surging up and crashing down together. My brother had truly done it. What no one in nearly a hundred years had managed to achieve — the drainage diversion method — had been made real by him.
I choked up, and every trace of anxiety and suppressed fear dissolved in this moment into tears that spilled freely. No longer caring about any quarrel or punishment, I wanted only to run at once to my brother’s side and see with my own eyes the embankment he had built.
“What are you still crying for — you’ve already won your argument!” The fury in Xiao Qi’s eyes at last dissolved into helplessness. He sighed and said, “How did I ever come to meet a woman like you?”
No matter what else he said, I only wept — letting myself cry as freely as I liked before him. It had been so long since I had been able to cry like this. All the sorrow and grievance that had been suppressed for so long transformed in this moment into tears that flowed from a joy too overwhelming to contain.
Seeing me cry harder and harder, he was first at a loss, and then at a complete loss, dabbing at my tears with one hand while sighing with a helpless, rueful look on his face. “All right, all right — I’ll say no more. Will that do?”
My tears broke through into laughter at his expression of resigned exasperation. He sighed and looked at me with gravity, the shadow of lingering fear in his eyes. “A’Wu! Do you understand that not every time will you be this lucky? If your brother had failed, if the delay in military orders had led to a catastrophe, what a weight of blame you would have been carrying?”
“I know,” I said, raising my eyes to look at him steadily. “But if the dyke had truly been breached, both in public and in private, I could not have stood by and done nothing. Even knowing the responsibility would be immense, it was worth the risk. I also know that one should not casually interfere in military and political affairs — only this time was different.”
“Still won’t admit you were wrong!” Xiao Qi’s remaining anger flared briefly. He glared at me for a long moment, sighed deeply, and said, “Since you are my wife, sharing both advancement and withdrawal together, I have never shut you out of military and political matters. But everything has its limits — this time you were truly reckless, and especially so in concealing it from me!”
Knowing I was in the wrong, I bowed my head honestly, keeping my eyes down and saying nothing.
“Clearly I have been far too lenient with you!” He gave a cold snort, yet the anger had left him. “Now do you admit your mistake?”
I gave a slight nod. He still would not relent, continuing to look at me with a furrowed brow.
“I admit my mistake,” I said at last, though in my heart I was anything but willing to concede it. I shot him a resentful glance and raised a hand to wipe away the tears still at the corners of my eyes.
I heard him draw in a sharp breath and suddenly seized my hand. His expression changed at once. I also only then realized that where my wrist had been held by him, it now showed a bruised and purplish mark.
“How did this happen…” He cupped my wrist in his hands, his face full of remorse, all the sternness of his manner gone without a trace.
I bit my lip and leaned against his chest, saying nothing, sulking and letting him be at a loss about how to manage me. I had always known he was entirely at my mercy!
People speak of an eventful autumn — yet this year it was spring that was without end in its upheavals.
Fortunately, the south finally sent back good news at last: the Chuyang Great Dyke was completed, and the century-long flood control endeavor had achieved its long-awaited success. The reinforcement army that had been stranded at Yulongji crossed the river smoothly. Their long-suppressed spirit surged forth at once; they swept across Jiangnan in a single strike, taking city after city with unstoppable force. In fewer than three days they had reached the walls of Huaining City and joined forces with Hu Guanglie’s advance army. Overnight, the entire court was filled with elation.
My brother, for his meritorious service in managing the floods, was elevated in title from Commandery Prince to the full rank of Prince — becoming Prince of Jiangxia.
The alliance with Turk Prince Helu had been concluded, and a hundred thousand troops had been dispatched on the long route to the western frontier. Yet within the court, a considerable number of stubborn old ministers were still urging objection and going to great lengths to demand that the western expedition forces be recalled. Among these, the Superintendent of the Imperial Household Shen Zhongyun opposed most fiercely, going so far as to prostrate himself before the throne in the court hall in continuous, violent kowtows until his head was bathed in blood. He subsequently staged a hunger strike at his home, prepared to die in protest. Xiao Qi, in a fury, had the entire Shen clan — over a hundred and seventy people — thrown into prison, declaring that if Shen died in his hunger strike, the whole clan would be made to accompany him in death. This order, once issued, cowed every minister with Xiao Qi’s thunderous decisiveness, and no one dared to raise objections or speak out again.
Shen Zhongyun was a man of distinction in his own right. Having spent long years in officialdom, he had grown worldly and accommodating over time, and had once sought Father’s patronage. I had known him since childhood, but never imagined he had this kind of integrity. It is often said that the great families have fallen and scholars have lost their backbone — yet in the face of foreign invasion, the spine of this man of letters was finally forced to show itself.
This Shen Zhongyun gave me entirely new respect for him, and earned Xiao Qi’s quiet admiration as well. Though Xiao Qi was furious at his pigheadedness, he had no real intention of killing the man’s family. He used them as leverage, forcing the obstinate old scholar into a bet: to temporarily suspend his death-wish and wait to see what this war came to — and if it truly ended in defeat, there would still be time to die then. Xiao Qi pledged that in that case, he would not implicate the man’s family. Thus mollified, the old gentleman agreed with ill grace, and truly did shut himself in at home to wait for his death.
It was almost amusing to think about — only someone like Xiao Qi could come up with this kind of method for dealing with a venerated name in the court. Which goes to show that when it comes to pigheaded people, the simplest and most shameless approach is often the most effective.
It seemed as though even the heavens had sensed the turn of things in the human world — the rain that had drenched everything for more than a month finally cleared. The sky’s gloom parted, and in the courtyard, apricot blossoms bloomed in their first tender blush. Spring had returned to the world, and it was already the fragrant fourth month.
My brother had been away from the capital for a full year now. Once he had wrapped up the remaining river management affairs, he would be returning to the capital before long.
As court custom dictated, it was time again to change the seasonal colors and put on spring garments. Since the Six Palaces had no mistress, the service regulations that should normally be established by the Empress or the Empress Dowager fell to me to manage jointly with the Bureau of Palace Supplies.
Before the Fengchi Palace, A’Yue led a group of palace maids in presenting this year’s newly offered silks and gauzes for my review. I would select the styles and colors, after which garments would be tailored to rank and grade and bestowed in due order upon the wives of officials both within and beyond the palace. The Fengchi Palace was Mother’s bedchamber from before her marriage. It had long stood empty, and since my childhood, when I had often stayed overnight in the palace, this Fengchi Palace had been set aside as my personal retreat. Watching the graceful palace maids move between the cloud-brocade and gauze fabrics, their robes floating about them like celestial maidens walking through clouds. A few lively young maids laughed and chattered among themselves — one singing “Ziye Ge” in the soft, gentle tones of Wujiang dialect, another dancing along, beating time with her feet. Fengchi Palace, usually quiet and deserted, suddenly filled with the warmth of spring. Seeing me watching them with a smile, they grew more and more free-spirited; a few others happily joined in. I could not resist A’Yue and the others urging me on, and on a sudden playful impulse, I stepped into their midst. Following the winding notes of their singing voices, I rediscovered steps long grown rusty from disuse — as if I had been returned to my girlhood. My toes touched the ground and I turned freely, spinning… Colors streaked and swirled before my eyes, dissolving into a brilliance of flowing light, and the years of my youth seemed to pass like a dream just out of reach.
The singing voices faded without my noticing when they had stopped. I glanced around and saw that everyone had sunk to the ground in prostration, not a sound among them. I turned sharply — Xiao Qi was standing in the palace doorway, staring at me as though his very spirit had been captured. The warm breeze of the fourth month drifted past, stirring all the gauze and silk into a drifting, ethereal haze. He walked slowly through the drifting cloud of magnificent fabrics and came to my side. Having stopped my rapid spinning, I felt a little dizzy — but he caught me just in time. The palace maids quietly withdrew without a word, retreating far to the outside of the hall.
His eyes, full of enthralled, tender longing, struck a chord deep in my heart. I lifted my face and looked up at him with a smile, trailing the tips of my fingers lightly over his chest, his neck, his jaw. He closed his eyes, allowing my fingers to drift along their path while his breathing grew gradually quickened.
“Don’t tease — I still have matters to attend to.” He brought himself to put on a stern face and took hold of my hand, refusing to let me move further. That very show of seriousness only made my desire to conquer him all the stronger. I slipped into his embrace, hooked my arms around his neck, and with lowered, half-closed eyes murmured, “What matters could possibly be more pressing than me?” His eyes finally fell into a daze, and he bent suddenly to kiss me. A long, entangled moment later, with both of us barely holding ourselves together, I drew back with a breath and gave him an amused look. “Didn’t Your Highness still have something important to attend to?”
Seeing him raise his handsome brows, his eyes blazing, I turned and made to escape — only to have my feet catch on the silks and gauze heaped across the floor. Losing my footing, he caught hold of me without ceremony and pulled us both down into a soft heap of brocade and embroidered cloth. In the tangle that followed, all restraint was abandoned, and the sweeping folds of brilliant cloud-brocade wrapped us layer upon layer, leaving all care and constraint behind — only the desire to sink into each other’s eyes and remain there for all eternity.
In the languid aftermath, Xiao Qi reclined on the brocade couch, his collar slightly open, watching me dress my hair and compose my appearance with a smile. The silks and satins spread across the floor of the hall still carried the traces of the tenderness of moments before.
I pinned the last of my hair into place and walked barefoot out onto the open hall, searching through the scattered silks and brocade on the floor.
“What are you looking for?” Xiao Qi asked, puzzled.
I kept my head down, searching through the fabrics. “A bolt of cloth has gone missing.”
He laughed. “What rare fabric could it be, to be so precious?”
I finally found that half-bolt of lotus-colored cloth and draped it casually over my shoulders. I turned toward him with a smile. “Found it — what do you think? Does it look well?”
Xiao Qi smiled. “With a heavenly beauty, even rough cloth would look beautiful.”
“Who asked you to look at me — look at the cloth!” I said with fond reproach, holding up that bolt of fabric — half like hemp, half like a blend of silk and ramie — for him to examine closely. Xiao Qi looked at it with a token effort and gave a perfunctory answer: “Not bad.”
I looked at him with a slight tilt of my head. “This is a new offering from the Weaving Bureau this year, intended for making garments for the palace maids — never used before. The silkworm thread is blended with the finest thin hemp, and the woven fabric is just as soft and fine, yet costs more than half less than ordinary silk.”
He nodded, watching me with growing interest. “It would certainly save some expenditure — rare to see the Princess Consort also have a mind for thrifty household management.”
I paid no attention to his teasing and raised an eyebrow. “What if all the official wives within the court and the imperial household were to adopt this fabric for their required garments?”
He paused, and a light kindled in his eyes as understanding began to dawn.
“Would Your Highness care to guess how much this would reduce the court’s expenditures?” I glanced at him sideways with a quiet smile.
Xiao Qi frowned — this question left him completely at sea.
“Exactly three hundred thousand taels of silver,” I said.
“What!” Xiao Qi was startled. “Can this single category of expenditure amount to so much?”
I said with gravity, “Indeed. The palace has long been steeped in a custom of extravagance, and the official wives within and beyond the court follow its example entirely. Every year, the wealth spent on cosmetics and clothing alone would be enough to feed and clothe the common people of an entire prefecture.”
Xiao Qi was taken aback by this, and his expression darkened. After a moment’s reflection, he said, “I see. At present, though hostilities have broken out both north and south, the treasury is still full, and there is as yet no shortage of provisions and rations — but to be prudent and reduce expenditures as much as possible would be best.” He looked at me steadily, his eyes full of appreciative pleasure. “It is remarkable that you have thought so thoroughly on this.”
I turned aside with a smile. “Yet at the moment, the court is in a period of turbulence. Now that spring has returned at last and people’s hearts are a little steadied, the aristocratic families of the capital have long been accustomed to a life of luxury. If reductions in clothing and silk allowances are enforced too suddenly, it would easily seem at odds with good feeling and human nature. We would need to find a way to have them follow the new arrangements of their own free will and without resentment.”