In his letter, he had written nothing of great importance. Instead, he told her a little about this and that.

He had recently bought a tortoise, he said. The tortoise was fond of fresh meat, and would crawl all around the courtyard, often sending him searching for it at length.

On the trellis at his home, the grapes had been ripening one by one. This year’s crop, however, was a little more sour than last year’s — and given the tartness, he had decided not to bring any for her to taste.

He also mentioned that it had rained the previous night. The sound of thunder had woken him, and the room had felt wide and empty in the quiet patter of the rain.

He wrote: at that moment, I missed you terribly.

When Yan Qing came to that line, her face warmed, and the corners of her mouth curved up softly.

She read the letter several times over, then folded it carefully and tucked it between the pages of a book.

Yan Qing placed a piece of calligraphy she had been practicing into an envelope, sealed it, and passed it to Dihuai, who understood at once and left to deliver it.

By the time Dihuai arrived at the Military Police Division, Shi Ting was in his office speaking with Zheng Yun.

“Everything on Second Young Master’s end has been arranged. He will not hear news of Miss Yan’s broken engagement — this match is as good as dissolved. Madam Shi has suppressed word from him out of fear he would object, and on top of that, the complications you’ve had us create for Shi Guang have him too occupied to give it any thought. Oh — how did that other matter come along?”

“Seventh Brother can rest easy. Everything is proceeding according to plan.” Zheng Yun said, then glanced toward the window. “It’s Dihuai.”

Shi Ting knew Dihuai had come to deliver a letter, and his gaze softened at once.

Dihuai completed his delivery and headed back. On his way, he had been quietly listening for news around the estate and had unexpectedly learned that someone had come to the Yan Mansion to propose a match — and the intended party was Sixth Miss.

“Do you know who it is?” Yan Qing’s brow creased.

“A silk merchant apparently sent a matchmaker to propose on behalf of his second son.” Dihuai said. “I’ll go and find out more.”

“Is Father in the estate?”

“The Master went out early this morning.”

With Old Master Yan absent, Madam Yan might well act unilaterally. If she verbally agreed to the matchmaker’s offer, even if Old Master Yan refused upon returning, it would count as breaking a second promise. Having already had one engagement dissolved, and now breaking another as well, Yan Qing’s reputation would be utterly destroyed.

Yan Qing thought to herself: the matchmaker chose not to come earlier or later, but waited for precisely the moment Old Master Yan stepped out the door. The intent was all too clear.

“You go and find the Master and bring him back first. I’ll go and deal with the matchmaker.” Yan Qing’s expression became composed and serious. “Madam is not content with her winnings and wants to squeeze out even more.”

The matchmaker who had come to negotiate the match was something of a well-known figure in the area. She wore a qipao in rose purple sea velvet, a string of jade beads around her neck, her hair knotted up in a bun with a jade hairpin tucked in at an angle. She was seated at a rectangular table, silver-tongued and persuasive with Madam Yan.

“Sixth Miss is here,” a maidservant announced hurriedly as she came in.

Madam Yan saw Yan Qing arrive, and though a flash of unease crossed her eyes, it vanished quickly, replaced by a smile. “Sixth Girl, you’ve come at just the right time. This is Matchmaker Liu, who has come especially to propose a match for our family.”

Yan Qing entered the main hall and gave the matchmaker a slight nod. “Which young lady of the household is the match being proposed for, may I ask?”

“Why, for you, Sixth Miss.” Matchmaker Liu came forward and looked Yan Qing up and down. “The Li family runs three silk shops in Shun Cheng and is very well-off. Their second son, Li Wen, is presentable in appearance and quick-witted. He works as the second manager at their family shop, and in his spare time he enjoys composing and reciting poetry — a man of considerable refinement.”

Yan Qing suddenly remembered — wasn’t this Li Wen the same oily-faced young man whom Yan Qin and Shi Yutong had brought to Old Madam Shi’s birthday banquet to falsely accuse her of a secret rendezvous?

She smiled inwardly with cold contempt.

Madam Yan added from one side, “Sixth Girl, the Li family is a respectable household. I’ve already made inquiries through Matchmaker Liu, and furthermore, you would marry in as the legitimate wife — not a concubine. You wouldn’t be wronged at all.”

“Madam is in such a hurry to marry me off?” Yan Qing said with a smile.

Matchmaker Liu let out a sympathetic sigh. “Sixth Miss doesn’t know, but the First Madam only means well. She was afraid that having an engagement broken would affect Sixth Miss’s marriage prospects, so she went out of her way to contact several matchmakers. Unfortunately, when those matchmakers heard it was Sixth Miss’s case, they all took fright and ran off — I’m the only one willing to take it on. The Li family’s second son has said that he and Sixth Miss have met briefly before and holds nothing against the broken engagement. He simply asks that Sixth Miss be willing to settle down and live a steady life.”

The implication of Matchmaker Liu’s words was clear: if Yan Qing were still picky, she would not even be able to secure a match like the Li family.

“You said Second Young Master Li enjoys composing and reciting poetry?” Yan Qing asked.

Matchmaker Liu’s eyes brightened, thinking she was interested. “Sixth Miss’s literary talent is widely renowned — her two poems have spread all through the streets and lanes of Shun Cheng. Sixth Miss and Second Young Master Li share the same passion — truly a perfect match made in heaven.”

Yan Qing smiled. “In that case, I happen to have a poem here. Would you be so kind as to pass it to Second Young Master Li?”

Matchmaker Liu exchanged a glance with Madam Yan when she wasn’t looking. She had not expected things to go so smoothly.

What neither of them knew was that this Second Young Master Li had already driven away two wives before, both sent back to their families. He was a compulsive gambler who frequented pleasure houses, and when drunk, he beat his wives.

If Yan Qing truly married into that household, her days would not be easy ones.

Yan Qing took the paper and brush that Jing Zhi offered, quickly wrote two lines of verse, and handed the paper to Matchmaker Liu.

The two lines she wrote were: *Drunk, we parted by the river tower where citrus fills the air; the river wind carries the rain into a cooling boat.*

Yan Qing smiled with gentle composure. “These are two lines I wrote at leisure. Since Second Young Master Li enjoys poetry, perhaps he might complete the next two lines. If he can surpass what I’ve written, I will have Father agree to the match. What do you say?”

Matchmaker Liu and Madam Yan looked at each other, at a loss.

Yan Qing inclined her head slightly. “Then I shall wait for good news.”

With that, Jing Zhi pushed Yan Qing out of the main hall.

“What… what do we do now?” Matchmaker Liu asked.

Madam Yan’s brow furrowed tightly. “What else can we do — get that Li fellow to think of something and complete the couplet, quickly.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll go at once.” Matchmaker Liu tucked the paper away and hurried out of the Yan Mansion at a trot.

On the way back, Jing Zhi was still a little worried. “Miss, aren’t you afraid that Second Young Master Li might complete the couplet?”

Yan Qing smiled. “He won’t. No matter how many lines he comes up with, none will be able to match those two.”

Those two lines were by Wang Changling, revered as the master of the seven-character quatrain. An oily-faced, good-for-nothing wastrel had no hope of completing them easily.

Besides, this was only her delaying tactic. Once Old Master Yan returned, it would no longer matter whether he completed the verse or not.

She could not confront Madam Yan head-on, nor could she be openly rude to the matchmaker. This was the only stratagem that would keep her safe.

Dihuai was efficient. Old Master Yan returned to the estate quickly.

Madam Yan had not expected Old Master Yan to come back so suddenly and was thrown into a panic.

“I heard a matchmaker came.” Old Master Yan strode into the main hall, his expression dark. “Did you arrange for her to come?”

Madam Yan’s mouth twitched. “I only did it for Sixth Girl’s sake. This marriage was originally hers — now it has passed to Fifth Girl, and I feel I’ve done Sixth Girl a wrong. I simply wanted to help her settle her marriage prospects sooner.”

Old Master Yan sat down, and a servant passed him a cup of tea.

“And what kind of man is this Li family’s second son?”

“A fine man, of course — and fond of composing poetry, a perfect match with our Sixth Girl.”

“And why have I heard that this Li Wen is fond of pleasure houses and has already driven away two wives?”

Madam Yan had not anticipated that Old Master Yan would know so much, and cold sweat immediately broke out on her brow.

Bang!

The teacup in Old Master Yan’s hand came crashing down onto the floor, shattering into pieces.

Madam Yan nearly fell to her knees. “Mas… Master…”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re scheming.” Old Master Yan was incensed. “Sixth Girl’s engagement with the Shi family is already ruined. You ought to have gotten what you wanted. But your greed is boundless — you still want to push Sixth Girl into a pit of fire. If Sixth Girl hadn’t been quick-witted today, if I hadn’t come back in time, you would have agreed to that matchmaker’s terms. Regardless of whether I consented, Sixth Girl would have broken off two betrothals in succession — how would she ever marry well again? You vicious, scheming woman.”

Old Master Yan seized a teacup from the table and hurled it at Madam Yan. She was unable to dodge in time, and the cup struck her on the forehead. She took the opportunity to close her eyes and collapsed onto the floor in a “faint.”

“Come — drag her back to her courtyard to reflect on her conduct in seclusion. Without my permission, she is not to leave.”

The attendants rushed in and looked at Madam Yan’s bleeding forehead. “Master, Madam’s injury…”

Old Master Yan let out a cold laugh. “Since she likes fainting so much, let her keep on fainting. I want to see if she’ll bleed to death. And pass word to everyone: without my permission, no matchmaker is to enter this estate uninvited. Anyone caught sneaking one in will be soundly beaten.”

With that, Old Master Yan swept his sleeves and stormed out.

Before long, word reached Old Madam Yan’s ears. She gave a quiet snort of contempt. “That greedy woman.” Then she added, “But keep an eye on the Master as well — make sure he doesn’t lose his temper again. Family scandals should not be aired in public, or we’ll be a laughingstock.”

As for Second Young Master Li, when the matchmaker placed the two lines of verse in front of him, he nearly worried his hair white. This self-styled lover of poetry could produce nothing better than a few doggerel rhymes and some saccharine sentimental verse.

*Drunk, we parted by the river tower where citrus fills the air; the river wind carries the rain into a cooling boat.*

The two lines were published in the newspaper, and for a time they caused a great stir among the literary figures and poets of Shun Cheng, each competing to complete the couplet. Word even spread through the city that Sixth Miss of the Yan family was “seeking a husband through poetry.” Yet all the lines anyone managed to produce were barely passable — not a single one could hold its own against those two.

~

Shi Ting’s letters arrived just as promised.

The happiest part of Yan Qing’s day was receiving his letters. The two exchanged correspondence back and forth, filling their letters with the small details of daily life — no lingering longing, no honeyed vows, yet reading each other’s words felt like tasting something sweet.

In one letter, Shi Ting asked her what the final two lines of the poem were, and whether completing the couplet would mean he could marry her.

She knew he was teasing her on purpose.

*Drunk, we parted by the river tower where citrus fills the air; the river wind carries the rain into a cooling boat. I think of you in the faraway Xiao-Xiang moonlight, and wake from troubled dreams to the long cries of the gibbons.*

Yan Qing wrote the last two lines into her reply.

Shi Ting quickly sent a letter back, saying: you gave me the answer — does that mean you’re inviting and encouraging me to come and marry you?

Yan Qing laughed and called him a shameless rogue.

She saved every letter he sent, storing them in a small wooden box secured with a lock.

The Yan Mansion had grown increasingly busy, with everyone upstairs and downstairs preparing for Yan Qin’s wedding. Yan Qing occasionally joined in to help cut out paper happiness characters.

When the servants saw her, their eyes were invariably filled with sympathy. She knew what they were sympathizing over, but she did not care.

While the Yan household was filled with festive bustle, the Shi estate was also making intensive preparations.

Shi Guang had been south for half a month, and upon returning to Shun Cheng he learned that his wedding date had been set. Though the news felt abrupt, when he thought of the young woman who — even seated in a wheelchair — radiated confidence and quiet brilliance, his mood brightened considerably.

Born into the Marshal’s household, it had never been his place to decide his own marriage. He counted himself fortunate that the one chosen happened to be the very person he himself admired. At the thought of bringing her home soon, he found himself walking faster.

Back in his courtyard, Qiucao was cutting out paper happiness characters. Seeing him return, she immediately set down her scissors and came forward with a bright smile. “Second Young Master, you’re back.”