In the twelfth month, Guangping Earl Yang Huaishen personally came to receive his bride, welcoming Lin Shi into the newly fitted Guangping Earl’s Manor as his wife.

Li Gu had promised Xie Yuzhang he would do honor to Yang Huaishen and Lin Fei’s wedding, and he kept his word — not only did he have the Noble Consort send gifts to add to the bride’s dowry, he even came in person, in plain clothes, to the Guangping Earl’s Manor for the ceremony, which left everyone present utterly astonished.

Li Gu said: “Today there is no distinction between sovereign and subject. I am only a guest.”

Though the Emperor stayed only long enough to drink a single cup of wine before departing, this singular honor cast a brilliant light on the Yang Family’s name that no words could match.

For this, Xie Yuzhang came to the palace more frequently in the weeks that followed, and her manner was softer when she spoke.

Li Gu remarked with a sigh: “You truly never stir without reason, and never let the hawk fly unless there is prey to be had.”

Xie Yuzhang said: “Naturally — otherwise the rabbit gets away, and I have released the hawk for nothing.”

Which made Li Gu burst out laughing in spite of himself.

And yet this was her — the bright, cunning mind, the nimble tongue, so vividly, achingly alive.

Now the Crown Prince was in good health, all three of the junior consorts were with child, and though the sex of the children was not yet known, there was hope at last. With the outer ministers no longer buzzing in his ears on the matter, Li Gu found himself considerably more at ease than before. The northern frontier had been pacified, border trade markets had been established, and plans were underway to build a Great Protectorate to serve as a permanent garrison of the north. The capital region’s snow disaster had been managed well, and the people were grateful.

Everything was on the rise, moving steadily upward.

When Li Gu spent time with Xie Yuzhang, he felt a deep sense that the years were good and the world was peaceful.

At times it even occurred to him — perhaps things could simply go on like this, and that would not be so terrible at all. He also knew perfectly well that this was what Xie Yuzhang had always hoped for. Perhaps giving her what she wished for was itself a path worth taking.

Yet in the deepest part of his chest, there was a place that, left untouched, could just be endured — but the moment it was stirred, the ache was unbearable.

And Xie Yuzhang, precisely as he sensed, was genuinely hoping that things could remain as they were.

In this life, the course of events had changed entirely, and with it the fates of many people.

Yang Huaishen, for instance — in the previous life, he had buried two wives in succession, and in the new dynasty that had risen he had done nothing more than scrape and scramble. Whatever changes he had made to himself, whatever the Yang Family had become — neither he nor his family had come anywhere close to the standing and honor they held in this life.

Lin Fei, for instance — she was a new bride now, and though her parents-in-law were still living, her husband had already established his own separate residence, and from the very first day she stepped through those doors she was the mistress of the household in her own right. To find a woman of her age with such freedom in all of Yunjing, you would have to look as far as Zhang Fen before you found another.

And Guangping Earl Yang Huaishen himself — once the most notorious rake in all of Yunjing, and now a man of achievement and renown, who had set aside every last trace of that old recklessness and even kept no concubines, living his days with Lin Shi and no one else.

In this regard, he had already far surpassed Marquis Bei Rong, whose marriage had unraveled and whose husband and wife now lived entirely apart.

The people of Yunjing all said that Lin Shi had lived through suffering and hardship, that her righteousness and devotion were worthy of the heavens’ recognition — and that at last, she had received her due reward.

Now that so many things were good, so many people well — why would Xie Yuzhang wish for any change? She did not truly know whether the events of the previous life would still come to pass in this one. She only hoped that those things would dissolve away entirely in this life, leaving no trace behind.

And the new year arrived quickly. On the night of the Lantern Festival, Li Gu climbed the city tower and scattered baskets of small gold coins down onto the streets below, sharing in the celebration with the people. He looked out over the streets below, glittering with lantern light as though it were broad day, and knew that Xie Yuzhang must be somewhere in one of those streets — most likely with her younger sister’s hand in hers, taking her to see the lanterns.

He just did not know which street she was on. He and she could not, in truth, walk hand in hand through the lantern festival the way so many ordinary people did.

He descended the tower, changed his clothes, and slipped out of the palace in plain dress. He had someone go ahead to the Princess’s manor to inquire — and indeed, she had gone out into the streets to see the lanterns. A person of her temperament, it went without saying, could not simply stay home.

Li Gu could not suppress a smile at the corner of his mouth. He found out which street she had gone to, had someone buy him a mask from a roadside stall and put it on, then set off on foot to join the crowds.

The streets were ablaze with light, and all through the throngs were people wearing masks. Particularly the young couples or newly-wed pairs who had come out together — all of them masked, hands linked, unconcerned about who might see them, since no one could tell who they were.

Li Gu walked through three streets before he finally spotted Xie Yuzhang.

She was not hard to find — people of rank traveled with many guards, and some even had screen carriers to prevent any accidental jostling from the crowds.

Xie Yuzhang had not brought screen carriers; they blocked too much of the view and spoiled the enjoyment. But her guard contingent was sizable, surrounding her on all sides, and in the glow of the lanterns she shone as brilliantly as she always did. Standing beside her was the equally radiant Lin Zi, Lin Zhongxun — and together, with their combined luminance, they caught the eye immediately even in the thick of the bustling crowd.

Li Gu’s footsteps came to a stop. Because Xie Yuzhang was not alone — her hand was holding Jia You’s, and nearby were Lin Fei and Yang Huaishen, while Lin Fei’s elder brother Lin Zi stood to the side, accompanying and watching over them.

Given the situation, there was no way for him to go to her side.

Xie Yuzhang was pointing at a jade rabbit lantern and showing it to Jia You, when something shifted in her — a feeling she could not explain. She turned her head, and through the shifting shapes of the crowd, she saw a man standing in the distance among the fading lantern light, watching her.

He and his people all wore masks, their clothing plain and unremarkable, with nothing at all to set them apart.

Xie Yuzhang looked steadily for a moment, and then a brilliant smile broke across her face.

She placed Jia You’s hand in Lin Fei’s keeping, pointed to a lantern and told the vendor to take it down for her, murmured “Wait here for me” to the group, and then walked — lantern in hand — directly toward the man in the mask.

“For you,” she said, and held it out.

Among the many elaborate and clever lanterns on display, this one was entirely unremarkable — standard in shape, with a common blessing inscribed on its surface: may the four seas be at peace, and the five grains grow in abundance.

The man in the mask reached out and took it. He said nothing. But below the mask, his eyes shone brilliantly, radiating a happiness that had no words.

Xie Yuzhang’s gaze was soft and luminous. She looked at him and smiled — like a scatter of clouds parting to reveal the clear moon, pure and beautiful.

“I’m off to play,” she said, bright and cheerful.

But the man in the mask caught hold of her wrist. He reached up and gently set the loosened jade pin back into her hair, securing it properly before he released her. “Go on, then.”

Yang Huaishen and Lin Zi had watched it all from a distance, with a clear view. When Xie Yuzhang came back to them and took up Jia You’s hand again, their group continued walking.

But both of them turned to look back — and there in the dying lantern light, the upright and unmistakable silhouette still stood, wrapped in the smoke and sparks of the festival’s fireworks, his gaze following the graceful figure that moved among their group.

The two men looked at each other, and said nothing. There was no need.

Once the new year had passed, a number of adjustments were made among the court’s personnel.

Lin Zi’s uncle was appointed to an external posting. Since Lin Zi’s aunt still had to manage the household through Lin Zi’s wedding in the fourth month, he went to take up his position alone.

Lin Zi was promoted to Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites. He was not yet thirty, and already a Vice Minister — a remarkable achievement.

The Yan Shi daughter, seventeen years old, fine-featured and lovely, was now entering the household as the wife of a Vice Minister, immediately holding official court rank by virtue of the appointment — something that many people found genuinely enviable.

In front of Li Gu, Xie Yuzhang offered warm praise of Yan Shi: “The Third Sister-in-law is young, but her learning is excellent. My Second Sister-in-law has taken a real liking to her — she often comes back to the manor to find her. Lin Madam has gone after Lin Master to his posting, leaving behind the ninth and tenth sons. Those two are doing very well for themselves — they are studying at Chengjing Academy and are often praised by the masters there.”

Chengjing Academy had been burned to the ground in the previous dynasty. After Li Gu appointed Grand Preceptor Mo as the Imperial Preceptor, he had it rebuilt on the original site; it was completed at the end of last year and opened its doors to students at the start of this year.

Countless sons of prominent families and scholars had rushed to Yunjing after the new year precisely on account of this, terrified of missing a place. Even some southerners had heard word of it and crossed the river in secret to come.

The new Emperor governed by both civil and military means — this was the greatest event of the fourth year of Kaiyuan.

On the ceiling of the Zichen Hall, the lantern inscribed with may the four seas be at peace, and the five grains grow in abundance still hung where it had been placed.

Li Gu said: “Every time you mention Lin Zhongxun, you smile.”

Xie Yuzhang said, with complete naturalness and not a trace of apology: “Who wouldn’t be in good spirits at the sight of a beautiful face? Third Brother holds first place on the Yunjing list of ten most handsome men, after all.”

Li Gu said: “There is actually such a frivolous ranking?”

“There always has been — what is frivolous about it?” Xie Yuzhang’s eyes were bright and lively, dancing with laughter. She asked: “Would Your Majesty like to know where you rank?”

Li Gu raised one brow: “No. Frivolous.”

Xie Yuzhang said admiringly: “Of course. Your Majesty is devoted to governance, your mind fixed always on the greater affairs of the realm — how could you concern yourself with something like this? Then I shall spare Your Majesty and say nothing further.” And with that she truly did say nothing, and left.

Li Gu sat in irritation for a good while and worked through a pile of memorials.

Later, when he saw Li Weifeng, Li Gu said: “How do people have so much time on their hands, to come up with such a pointless ranking.”

Li Weifeng said: “It has always been around — they redo it every year. I come in eleventh, every single time.”

“…Is it not a list of ten?” Li Gu said.

Li Weifeng clasped his hands behind his back: “If they added just one more spot, I would certainly make it.”

Li Gu was silent for a considerable moment. At last, he asked: “And where am I?”

Li Weifeng grinned: “Guess?”

Li Gu cracked his knuckles one by one, the joints giving a series of sharp snaps.

Li Weifeng immediately said: “Fourth. You are fourth on the men’s list. The top three all look like women — whiter than actual women — there is simply no competing with that.”

This ranking was, he supposed, acceptable. Li Gu had never paid the slightest attention to a man’s looks, and found this pointless list mildly tolerable at best — somewhat fair, he supposed.

Then he asked: “Is there a separate men’s list and women’s list?”

“Of course,” Li Weifeng said. “Do you want to guess who tops the women’s list?”

“Is there even any need to guess?” Li Gu said, with calm confidence. “Who else could it possibly be?”

Li Weifeng let out a click of the tongue and rolled his eyes.

His only regret was that Xie Baozhu could not appear on the list. Her looks, placed anywhere in Yunjing, would easily rank among the very finest. But she was currently a commoner, and this ranking concerned itself only with those of recognized standing — men and women alike. She simply did not qualify.

On the other hand, he was also relieved. With looks like that, if she sat quietly in Xie Family Village with his people forming an ironclad ring around the place, nothing would go wrong.

Good news continued to arrive one after another. In the third month, Qin Zhaorong gave birth to the Third Prince. In the fourth month, Zheng Zhaoyi and Su Zhaoyuan delivered the Fourth Prince and the Fifth Prince in quick succession.

The inner palace could truly be called an abundant harvest. The ministers finally ceased their nagging of the Emperor on the matter of selection ceremonies and producing heirs.

Li Gu felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders in an instant.

The heat arrived with remarkable speed. At the Dragon Boat Festival banquet in the palace, the Emperor and his ministers exchanged gifts with one another. The Emperor bestowed fine thin-woven summer garments on his ministers, and all who received them felt it a signal honor.

The Princess Yongning’s manor received its share of gifted garments as well — soft gauze of a gossamer weave, light as layered snow, cool and delicate against the skin.

Xie Yuzhang sent back in return a fragrant sachet for the Emperor — made from fine fabric and carefully chosen aromatic ingredients, though the needlework was, to put it charitably, quite rough.

Li Gu placed it on the table in the inner chamber. Each time he glanced at those loose, uneven stitches, he felt the corners of his mouth curl upward against his will.

The kitchen stove and the sewing needle — truly, they were not for her. But now he had the finest tailors, the most beautiful fabrics, and could have the most exquisite garments made for her; he had the most resplendent pearls to be sewn onto her shoes.

The years were peaceful and unhurried — and just as Xie Yuzhang had nearly convinced herself that they would go on being peaceful and unhurried, the thing that was fated to come arrived at last.

That evening, she had just removed her hairpins and jewelry and lay down, and was drifting in the soft haze between wakefulness and sleep, when her trusted maid came hurrying through the door, her footsteps quick and urgent, and called out in a low voice: “Your Highness — Your Highness!”

Xie Yuzhang stirred, let out a murmur, and did not particularly want to open her eyes. But the maid said the words someone has come from the Xiaoyao Marquis’s manor — and Xie Yuzhang came fully, sharply awake.

There are things in one’s fate that simply cannot be avoided.

She sat up abruptly. “What has happened?”

The maid’s voice trembled: “The Young Marquis has drowned…”

It was the same as in the previous life. Even in this life, she had not been able to prevent it. Xie Yuzhang felt herself go cold all over, and asked: “What else?”

The maid’s voice trembled even more: “It was — it was Wu-lang who did it…”

The sound in Xie Yuzhang’s mind was like a thunderclap.

So it was — exactly as she had suspected!

“Go — call out the guard unit, seal off the Xiaoyao Marquis’s manor, and let no one leave! ” Xie Yuzhang knew with perfect clarity that this was a matter of life and death, and her eyes had gone red. “Anyone who tries to flee at a time like this — cut them down!”

She was Princess Yongning, who held first place on Yunjing’s women’s list of beauty — a princess who never involved herself in court affairs, who lived in comfortable ease and splendor. She was a princess who moved through the palace and cultivated close ties with the consorts, who was on good terms with both the highly favored Marquis Bei Rong and the distinguished Marquis An Yi.

The fabric she wore, the clothing she chose — all of it watched closely by every noble woman in Yunjing. Whenever she introduced a new material, the cloth merchants would scramble to restock their shelves; whenever she had a new style cut, the tailors of every household would be sent out into the East and West Markets and the North Entertainment Quarter to observe her at leisure, in order to go home and replicate it for their mistresses.

In the Emperor’s presence she was soft-spoken and charming. In public she was warm and gracious, and welcomed wherever she went.

And yet no one had noticed that, beyond her visits to the palace, that blade — the dagger — never left her waist.

Even dressed in her finest garments, even living in comfort and ease, she had never set down the knife in her heart. She had always been, and remained, the Princess Baohua Xie Yuzhang of the grasslands — who had carried a longbow across her back and had not flinched from riding into battle to take a life.