The cold had settled in. Three men gathered around a brazier in a warm pavilion, the underfloor heating burning steadily, sharing drinks in easy company.

“When did the news arrive?” Li Gu asked. “When did this happen?”

“Roughly around the time you rode out against Liu Congyi.” Chen Zhiliang poured his cup full. “When you came back, you were busy without pause. And with you newly married — I felt the news was ill-timed for celebration, so I thought I’d wait a few more days before telling you.”

In truth, if not for the sudden revelation today that Li Gu had returned half a month ago and still hadn’t consummated the marriage with any of his wives, Chen Zhiliang had been fully prepared to keep this news to himself unless Li Gu asked.

“By the count of the days, it wasn’t far from your wedding — only a matter of a few days apart.” He said. “The old man was barely in the ground before she was wed.”

The news that had come back was this: after the old man’s death, Princess Baohua had remarried.

Li Gu held his wine cup and asked: “Who?”

Chen Zhiliang said: “Wuwei.”

“Him?” Li Weifeng slapped his thigh. “Personally I think Tuqitang would have been better — Tuqitang is at least…”

Noticing Chen Zhiliang had turned to give him a wide, white-toothed smile, Li Weifeng’s voice dwindled lower and lower, until he put his head down and stuffed a chicken leg into his mouth.

Chen Zhiliang: Good. If you can’t say anything useful, eat more.

Li Gu stared into the wine in his cup. “Ashina Wuwei.”

Chen Zhiliang nodded: “Wuwei has inherited the Khan’s throne. The Khan of Mobei — it’s not an unworthy match for her.”

Li Gu gave a low, humorless laugh. “Not worthy of her.” He said it, and then tipped his head back and drained his cup of hot wine in one swallow.

Chen Zhiliang spoke slowly: “My men attended the wedding. It was magnificent. In the days following the ceremony, the new Khan reportedly did not once set foot in any other tent — he spent every night in the Princess’s tent. His doting on the Princess is said to be no less than the old Khan’s.” Li Weifeng was kicking Chen Zhiliang frantically under the table, trying to get him to stop, but Chen Zhiliang planted his foot on top of Li Weifeng’s and continued to twist the knife into Li Gu’s heart: “The people of the grasslands all say that Princess Zhao, now that she has truly come into her own, has grown even more beautiful. A woman is like a flower — she needs a man to water her and she will—”

“Zipeng!” Li Gu said sharply. “Enough.”

He drained another cup. Hot wine, when drunk heated like this, was harsher on the throat than cold wine.

What was there to be surprised about?

When he had killed the old man yet was unable to bring her back with him, he had already known then that she would have a new, young husband. Given her station, she was certain to marry whoever became the next Khan.

Hadn’t he already known all of this?

And yet the wine burned from his throat straight down, scorching heart and lungs alike.

Li Zhenzhen finally got the straight answer she had wanted.

It was Mantou who came to deliver the message to the inner quarters: “The Master says he will return to the inner quarters to rest this evening, and requests First Lady to make the arrangements as she sees fit.”

Li Zhenzhen was satisfied: “Understood. I’ll have my people waiting for him at the inner gate.”

Mantou made to take his leave, but Li Zhenzhen called after him: “Mantou, I recall you and Shiyi Lang are the same age?”

Mantou replied: “First Lady’s memory is truly excellent.”

“Is that so?” Li Zhenzhen said. “Then from now on, you mustn’t come into the inner quarters anymore.”

From the moment Mantou had stepped through the inner gate, he’d been deeply uncomfortable in his own skin. At these words, he hastily said, “I know, I know. It’s only that today the Master had no one else to send.”

Li Zhenzhen said, “Go back and tell Shiyi Lang to find some newly tonsured young lads. From now on, for passing messages and running errands between the outer and inner quarters, use those boys. You older ones — you’re not to come barging in anymore.”

Mantou’s forehead broke into a sweat. “Yes, yes. I’ll find them as soon as I’m back.”

Li Zhenzhen said, “That’s an outer-quarters matter. I’m leaving it to you — it’s none of my concern.”

Only then did Mantou make his retreat.

Walking back, he saw how richly appointed the inner quarters had been renovated — each courtyard had once been occupied by Li Ming’s favored concubines, and now they were all gone, scattered to who knew where. It remained to be seen whether Li Gu would eventually fill these courtyards again.

But Mantou felt it deeply: things were different now from before.

Before, they and Li Gu had eaten and slept as one, their lives bound together. From now on, Li Gu would be bound to these women instead. He had a home and a household.

There would be children, too — best if that happened soon, best if the first one was a son.

Then everyone’s hearts could settle completely.

Li Zhenzhen was in a good mood at last today. She called her maidservant over: “Go tell Seventeenth Lady that the Master will be spending the night in her quarters this evening, and to prepare herself.”

The maidservant smiled: “Seventeenth Lady is certain to be grateful to First Lady.”

Li Zhenzhen said: “Don’t be flippant. Mind yourself.”

—

After it was confirmed that Huo Jiu had killed Li Ming and that the Huo family had been orchestrating everything from behind the scenes, Li Gu had surrounded the Huo residence with troops, sealing the front and back gates so completely that not even flowing water could have passed through. Mantou had led men inside.

He had carried with him Li Gu’s command: not a single rat was to escape.

When he came back out, there were no survivors inside the Huo estate.

The maidservants Li Zhenzhen had left behind at the Huo household had all died as well.

The reliable servants she had with her now were few: this one before her, brought back when she had returned to her own family home to nurse Li Ming in his illness. Originally just a second-rank maid, she had been overlooked. The two first-rank maids — one had died, one had been taken away by Huo Jiu — and with them gone, the remaining servants had grown lax in attending to Li Zhenzhen. Only this unremarkable second-rank maid had remained loyal, looking after her and Nuan’nuan consistently through these two difficult months.

It had been she who’d gathered her courage to go and question the soldiers at the watch when they had been replaced.

When the Li household changed hands again and Li Zhenzhen went from “First Lady” to “First Wife,” those people were full of regrets. But it was too late — every one who had been negligent to Li Zhenzhen was sold away.

There had been one who had shoved Nuan’nuan. Li Zhenzhen had ordered her beaten to death.

This one, whose loyalty had proven itself in times of hardship, had become her trusted confidante.

The maidservant had been chastened by her rebuke, and recalled too that Li Gu and First Lady were husband and wife in name only — it was Fifth Lady and Seventeenth Lady who would share his bed going forward. And those pillowside breezes they’d blow… a small chill ran through her, and she quickly said, “This servant knows her mistake.”

She went to pass along the message, and returned shortly to report: “Seventeenth Lady is deeply grateful.” She added: “Fifth Lady’s maid was standing by the doorway, watching. She caught hold of me and asked where I was going. I told her truthfully.”

Li Zhenzhen smiled slightly. “How quick-witted of you. Off you go, wait for Shiyi Lang at the gate.”

The ones who had been favored at her side in the past had grown accustomed to their privilege and become arrogant — in the end, they were no match for this second-rank girl, plain-born as she was, for seeing clearly and acting wisely.

Fifth Lady Deng was dazzling, with a somewhat proud nature; she lacked the gentleness and deference toward Li Zhenzhen that Seventeenth Lady Cui showed.

But they would both, sooner or later, become Li Gu’s bedfellows. Rather than wait for some day when Li Gu might be drawn to one of them on his own and consummate the marriage of his own accord, it was better to ensure that everyone knew Li Gu held neither of them in particular regard — and that it was she, Li Zhenzhen, who had pushed Li Gu into going to consummate with them.

The ways of the inner quarters had always been a matter of which wind prevailed — east over west, west over east.

Li Gu’s words had sounded generous — entrusting the inner household entirely to her. But men could never be relied upon. Who could say whether, one day, some woman might bewitch him into breaking his word?

Li Zhenzhen had no intention of being overshadowed in the inner quarters by anyone — and for that, she had to establish her dominance from the very beginning.

And yet, inwardly, there was a sadness.

When had Li Zhenzhen ever had to resort to such scheming and maneuvering? As Li Ming’s only daughter, she had always ruled the inner quarters by sheer force of presence alone.

But all of that splendor had died with her father.

—

It was Li Weifeng who physically escorted Li Gu to the inner gate. Chen Zhiliang and Mantou were on either side, lending a hand.

Li Zhenzhen’s maidservant was already waiting there with a matron — and when they saw the state Li Gu was in, both of them were struck dumb: the Master was such a large man, the two of them couldn’t possibly hold him up.

Li Weifeng had no choice. “Lead the way,” he said.

It was rather against the rules, but improvisation was called for — tonight, no matter what, Li Gu had to be delivered into someone’s bed.

He took a few steps forward, then felt something was wrong. He turned — and nearly choked with indignation. Chen Zhiliang and Mantou were both standing at the inner gate’s threshold with their hands clasped behind their backs, watching with serene composure.

“What are you two doing? Get over here and help!”

Chen Zhiliang said, “I’m a man from outside — how can I enter the inner quarters? Outrageous.”

Mantou said, “First Lady said I’m too old. She told me I’m not allowed in anymore.”

I’m not older than you!

Li Weifeng kicked at him, but they were too far away and he fell just the length of a toe short.

Mantou helpfully advised: “Steady yourself, Seventh Master — don’t drop the Master.”

He and Chen Zhiliang turned and unhurriedly walked away together.

Li Weifeng was beside himself with outrage.

And yet, just like Mantou, he felt it for the first time — that some things were no longer the same as before.

He had no choice. He followed the maidservant all the way, eventually depositing Li Gu in one of the courtyards.

The young woman who came out to receive them was graceful and gentle. He didn’t know which one she was, but calling her “sister-in-law” couldn’t be wrong.

“Sister-in-law, please have someone take him — quickly.” Li Weifeng was eager to make his escape.

But Cui Seventeenth Lady said with difficulty, “There’s no one in the courtyard who can manage the Master’s weight. Seventh Elder Brother… I’m afraid I must trouble Seventh Elder Brother.”

Li Weifeng had no choice and had to carry Li Gu all the way to the main room. Of course, he could absolutely not set foot in Cui Seventeenth Lady’s inner chamber — luckily, Cui Shi was quick-witted, and directed her servants to clear away the side table from the couch. Li Weifeng briskly deposited Li Gu onto it.

“He’s all yours.” With those words flung behind him, Li Weifeng fled.

Cui Seventeenth Lady had no time to say a word of thanks before he’d already vanished.

An elder brother-in-law in the bedroom of a younger sister-in-law — truly mortifying enough to die of shame. He would thrash Chen Zhiliang to death! And Mantou too!

Cui Seventeenth Lady was, in fact, more composed than Li Weifeng. It was simply that at this moment, with Li Gu right before her, everything else was a minor matter.

She had been married into this household for nearly three months now. For the first two months, Li Gu being out on campaign was one thing — but he had been back for half a month, and aside from welcoming him home that first day with Li Zhenzhen, she had not seen him even once since.

Today, Li Zhenzhen had given her this chance — how could she spare a thought for anything else?

Cui Yingniang directed her maids to bring warm water, and personally rolled up her sleeves to wring out a warm, dampened cloth and wipe Li Gu’s face and hands.

Two of the stronger maids worked together to prop Li Gu upright, and Cui Yingniang brought a sobering soup, warmed to just the right temperature, and held it to Li Gu’s lips. Li Gu opened his eyes and looked at her.

How could a drunk man’s eyes be so bright? Cui Yingniang’s hand trembled — luckily she didn’t spill it.

Li Gu drank half the bowl from her hands, then turned it away.

Cui Yingniang helped him rinse his mouth. When she had passed the bowl to a maid and turned back around, she found Li Gu with one leg drawn up, his elbow braced on his knee, his hand pressed to his forehead.

Cui Yingniang understood he was clearing the wine from his head and did not dare disturb him — she simply sat beside him, watching him quietly.

That young man’s brows were bold and martial, his nose bridge strong and straight, the line of his jaw truly fine. What mattered more was that, so young, he had already seized power and seated himself at the very apex of Hexi.

The maids, reading the room, tactfully withdrew.

Li Gu noticed the silence, lowered his hand, and found there was no one else in the room.

A graceful young woman sat quietly at his side.

She was not dressed to impress — she wore a simple layered robe, her face clean and unadorned, and her appearance was easy to rest one’s eyes on.

In the gaze she turned on him, there was a trace of uncertainty, a trace of shyness, a trace of longing.

Li Gu truly knew very little about her. He asked: “What is your name?”

The young woman answered softly: “Cui Ying.”

“Yingniang.” Li Gu nodded. “How old are you?”

Cui Ying answered: “Sixteen.”

Sixteen — even younger than her.

Li Gu looked at her in silence for a moment, then asked: “Before you were married to me, what did you imagine I would be like?”

Cui Ying said shyly: “I knew you were a hero. That was enough.”

I like those who are strong, who can take hold of their own fate.

Was it perhaps because women like them could not decide their own fate, that they so yearned for those who were powerful?

Was he powerful enough?

Could he protect these women, and keep them safe and content for the rest of their lives?

Li Gu looked at his beautiful young wife. His hand moved to rest on the raven-dark silk of her hair.

Cui Ying shyly tilted her head down slightly, revealing a length of snow-white neck, its curve exquisite.

Li Gu followed that line downward, his hand sliding to the small of her back, and with gentle pressure, drew Cui Yingniang into his arms. Her body was pliant as though boneless — as though she had no strength left at all.

A woman — such a fragile creature. Li Gu felt his wife’s body trembling faintly against him.

An untouched young girl, pressed so close to a man for the very first time, his breath everywhere around her — how could she not be tense? How could she not be afraid?

Ashina Wuwei — are you being gentle with her?

Yuzhang. Don’t be afraid.

Li Gu kissed her dark hair and murmured softly: “Don’t be afraid.”

Cui Yingniang stilled in his arms, and stopped trembling.

The wine had cleared from Li Gu’s head somewhat, and his strength had returned. He gathered Cui Yingniang up and carried her into the inner chamber.

……

……

In Hexi — Shiyi Lang, Li Gu, had also become another woman’s husband.