Yan Qing thought herself reasonably clever — but beside this thousand-year-old fox who had long since mastered every art, she was still a little too green. Or rather, her skin simply wasn’t as thick as his.

He had barely finished inhaling the scent of that peony before his lips found hers, and he kissed her deeply. His kiss carried the fragrance of the flower, and before she knew it, she had drifted into a pleasant haze.

A clear, bright birdsong rang out somewhere in the trees, and Yan Qing came back to her senses. Remembering that this was a pavilion in the Shi Mansion and someone might pass by at any moment, she quickly pushed him away.

“What if someone sees?” Yan Qing stared at him, her face entirely flushed.

“They won’t. If anyone were coming, we’d hear their footsteps.” Shi Ting lightly cupped her chin, his burning gaze fixed on her lips, glistening and flushed from his kiss. His heart stirred, and he nearly leaned in again.

But the kiss stopped in midair. He released her and, as if nothing had happened, lightly brushed the moisture from her lips.

“Someone’s coming.” He gave her a small wink.

Sure enough, barely audible footsteps approached from farther down the winding path, and a figure in a long robe emerged from behind the trees.

He seemed to have been caught off guard by the presence of others in the pavilion, and froze for a moment.

“Is Second Brother also taking a stroll through the garden?” The moment Shi Ting saw Shi Guang, he reverted to his usual cool, composed manner. Yan Qing watched and thought to herself — truly a gentleman in public and a scoundrel in private.

The resentment Yan Qing felt toward Shi Guang was something she had carried over from her previous life. When there were others present, she could at least go through the motions of polite acknowledgment. But now with just the three of them here, she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.

“Were you two playing chess?” Shi Guang glanced at the board, every square of which was covered in pieces. He could not quite make sense of the pattern of the black and white stones — his own skill at the game was decent, but this particular layout had him completely baffled.

“Just passing the time,” Shi Ting replied.

“Who won?” Shi Guang looked toward Yan Qing. She sat composed and unhurried, a pink peony blooming bright against her hair.

“A draw.” Shi Ting gave a slight nod. “If Second Brother has no other business, we’ll be taking our leave.”

“No particular business.” Shi Guang turned his attention to the board. “If Seventh Brother has time, shall we play a round? Come to think of it, the last time we played was when we were children. Back then you had just learned the game and kept pestering me to play with you every day.”

“I was too young then. I have no memory of what Second Brother is referring to.”

“That’s fair enough — you left for abroad at five, so you likely can’t remember much before that. Though you were quite thoroughly at my mercy back then.” Shi Guang gave an easy laugh.

Shi Ting smiled faintly at one corner of his mouth. “Since Second Brother is eager for a game, then let’s play.”

Yan Qing had no desire to sit here watching Shi Guang, and since a game of chess was now in store, she spoke up. “I’ll take a walk over there.”

Without waiting for either of them to respond, she descended the pavilion steps and headed away.

Shi Guang watched her graceful figure until it disappeared behind the trees. Something dim and desolate passed through his eyes.

Yan Qing — won’t you give me even the length of a single game of chess?

“Second Brother?” Shi Ting called out.

Shi Guang quickly collected himself and smiled as if nothing had happened. “Does my sister-in-law not enjoy chess?”

“She doesn’t know how to play. Naturally it bores her to watch.” Shi Ting sat down on the stone bench, taking no notice of the brief shadow that crossed Shi Guang’s face. “Please, Second Brother.”

Yan Qing strolled along the stream at a leisurely pace. Since Shi Ting was still in the pavilion, she didn’t wander far. She found a large, smooth boulder and settled down on it.

The water was clear. Now and then, flower petals drifted down from above and floated past, carried by the murmuring current downstream.

She picked up a few small pebbles and tossed them into the stream with cheerful interest.

“Is that fun?” A voice sounded behind her, startling her. But the moment she recognized the familiar tone, she laughed. “There’s a saying — a person cannot step into the same river twice.”

“A person cannot step into the same river twice?” Shi Ting came to stand beside her and turned the phrase over in his mind.

“You see, the river is always flowing. By the time you step in a second time, it is already a different river from before.”

“I’ve never heard that before.” Shi Ting picked up a few pebbles and handed them to her so she could keep tossing them. “Though it does have a certain truth to it.”

“Who won the game?”

“Take a guess.” Shi Ting winked at her.

“You won.” Yan Qing had complete faith in her husband’s skill at chess — especially after Shi Guang’s remark about “thoroughly defeating” him in the past.

Shi Ting ruffled her hair lightly. “Maybe I truly did lose back then. But I wouldn’t now.”

The things he wanted were the same things Shi Guang wanted. But he was no longer an innocent, unguarded child. One day, he would hold everything he desired — every person and every thing — firmly in the palm of his hand.

“Hey, why are you gripping so hard?” Yan Qing looked down at the hand curled around hers and gave a small, reproachful sound.

Shi Ting quickly brought her hand to his lips and blew on it gently, smiling warmly at her.

“My wife, when shall we head back?” He glanced at the sky. “Why isn’t it dark yet.”

Thinking of the wager from earlier, Yan Qing’s face immediately flushed. Somewhere between indignation and amusement, she pulled her hand free and walked off.

Shi Ting laughed quietly, shook his head, and followed after her at an unhurried pace.

After walking the whole of the Shi Mansion, the two returned to Shao Lan Garden.

Seventh Young Master’s Shao Lan Garden had a name of poetic elegance — but the pets within it left visitors wholly baffled. The big tiger, for instance, was not a tiger at all. The second egg, however, was an actual tiger. And as for Nutmeg — it was not something one could eat, because it had fur, and it bit.

Nutmeg had been borrowed by the Military Police Department and hadn’t returned yet, so Er Dan was currently free to roam the courtyard with an air of complete authority.

After dinner, Shi Ting was summoned to the study pavilion by the Marshal.

Yan Qing changed into a plain, simple outfit and was about to head out with Jing Zhi.

Yang Liu stepped forward quickly. “Seventh Young Mistress, where are you going? Please let Yang Liu come along.”

Jing Zhi frowned and shot her a sharp look. “Since when does a mistress need to report her whereabouts to a maid?”

“Yang Liu would not dare.” Yang Liu quickly lowered her head. “I only thought — it’s getting dark, and I worried it might not be safe outside.”

“Ridiculous. This is the Marshal’s estate — it is also the Young Mistress’s home. How could it be unsafe to walk around inside her own home?”

“I — I didn’t mean it that way.”

Jing Zhi waved her hand dismissively. “Mind your own duties. Don’t go poking your nose into things that aren’t your concern.”

Yang Liu turned away, thoroughly rebuffed, and retreated in embarrassed silence.

Yan Qing glanced at Jing Zhi with a small smile. “Since when did you become this formidable?”

“You can’t give people like her an inch — let her have a little ground and she’ll take a mile. She’s just a maid sent over by the First Madam, and yet she acts as though she’s someone important? She actually thinks she can monitor the Young Mistress’s movements?” Jing Zhi let out a sharp exhale. “The nerve.”

Yan Qing had assumed Jing Zhi wasn’t the type for such confrontations — but she had underestimated how fiercely protective Jing Zhi was of her. Anyone who treated Yan Qing poorly was enough to bring out Jing Zhi’s sharp edges in an instant.

“Where are we going, Miss?” Jing Zhi hadn’t been there long and wasn’t yet familiar with the layout of the Shi Mansion.

“The kitchen.”

“Are you still hungry, Miss?”

Yan Qing shook her head. “Mother’s medicine should be ready by now.”

“Miss — you can’t be planning to personally deliver it to Second Concubine?”

“Mm.”

Jing Zhi knit her brows, looking reluctant. “Miss, you know full well that Second Concubine doesn’t warm to you as a daughter-in-law. Isn’t walking right into that just asking for grief? I don’t want to watch her speak coldly to you.”

“I don’t want to put Shi Ting in a difficult position.” Yan Qing thought of the helpless, apologetic look he had given her today, and it had weighed on her. She didn’t mind bearing a little hardship herself — what she truly could not bear was seeing him torn in the middle.

Second Concubine was Shi Ting’s mother. If she loved Shi Ting, then she ought to love what was his as well. Even if Luo Huaimeng did not accept her now, she still believed that sincerity, carried far enough, could move even stone.

Hearing this, Jing Zhi could only let out a quiet, resigned sigh.

The two made their way to the kitchen. Jing Zhi asked around and learned that the medicine was prepared in the small auxiliary kitchen.

Inside the small kitchen were several stoves, each with a clay pot sitting on top. At this hour, only one still had embers burning beneath it. A young maid sat beside it, holding a fan — and had already nodded off to sleep.

At the sound of Yan Qing entering, the young maid stirred and looked up to find a strikingly beautiful woman in a red cheongsam standing before her.

Quick-witted as she was, the maid thought it through — she knew the faces of all the household’s mistresses, and this unfamiliar one, with a face impossible to forget once seen, must be the newly arrived Seventh Young Mistress.

“Good evening, Seventh Young Mistress.” The maid scrambled to her feet.

Yan Qing smiled. “Is this medicine being prepared for Second Concubine?”

“It is, Seventh Young Mistress.”

“Almost ready?”

“It should be done any moment.”

Yan Qing nodded. “Once it’s finished, give it to me. I’ll bring it to Mother.”

When the medicine was ready, the maid poured it into a porcelain bowl and placed it on a tray. Jing Zhi took it from her hands.

“This medicine was not brewed with enough care,” Yan Qing said as they walked toward Lan Xiang Garden. “Tomorrow, bring the medicine to our courtyard to brew it properly. When you go back, tell that young maid — and give her a small tip — to send the medicine to Shao Lan Garden every day from now on.”

Poorly brewed medicine would diminish its potency, and Second Concubine’s illness could not afford any compromise.

As they arrived at the entrance to Lan Xiang Garden, the two came across Luo Huaimeng’s personal maid, Xiang Xiu, stepping out at the same moment. Xiang Xiu saw Yan Qing and paused for a brief second, then curtseyed. “Seventh Young Mistress.”

Then she glanced at the tray Jing Zhi was carrying, and opened her mouth uncertainly.

Yan Qing smiled. “I’ve brought the medicine. There’s no need for Xiang Xiu to make another trip.”

Xiang Xiu moved to take the tray, but Yan Qing gently waved her off. “I’ll go in and attend to Mother while she takes her medicine.”

Xiang Xiu had not expected Yan Qing to come, and even less expected her to personally oversee Luo Huaimeng’s medicine. But on reflection, she supposed this was simply a new daughter-in-law’s way of trying to win favor with her mother-in-law. Nothing so strange about that.

Luo Huaimeng was seated at the table reading. Hearing footsteps, she assumed it was Xiang Xiu and did not look up.

“Mother, it’s time for your medicine.” A warm, unhurried voice sounded in her ear. Luo Huaimeng’s head snapped up.

—