Prince Wu did not leave the Wei Duke’s residence until deep into the night. Knowing that his Imperial Consort mother was still waiting for him in the palace, he did not return to Prince Wu’s manor but went directly to the palace, presenting himself at Hanxiang Hall to pay his respects to her.

Consort Yi placed the greatest importance on her health and almost never stayed up late. But tonight, after the Emperor had issued the imperial edict announcing the marriages, she had watched both her son’s and daughter’s betrothals fall into place at once, and her heart was a mingling of joy and unease. With a thousand threads of thought to untangle and so many preparations to be made, sleep was impossible.

Although she had changed into her sleeping robes, she could not bring herself to go to bed. One moment she was scrutinizing Kangping’s dowry list, checking what still needed to be added; the next, she was having the palace maids bring out the floor plan of Prince Wu’s manor’s main courtyard to deliberate over, making Hanxiang Hall even livelier than it was by day.

When she saw her son walk in wearing an expression of exhaustion, Consort Yi quickly set aside the dowry list she had been holding and asked with concern, “How is A’Yan? She should be out of danger by now, shouldn’t she?”

Prince Wu removed his cloak and tossed it casually to a palace attendant, stepped forward to bow to his mother, then sat down. “She’s already awake, and her color has improved. She took a dose of medicine a short while ago and has gone to sleep. Yu Ruoshui said the illness from those previous days hadn’t fully cleared, and then she was caught in the night air tonight, which brought on this relapse. With proper rest and treatment, she’ll be fine — it won’t leave any lasting damage.”

Consort Yi’s elegant brows drew together slightly. “That child — she’s fine in every other way, only her constitution is too delicate.”

Prince Wu smiled and spoke in Xia Yan’s defense: “She was perfectly well before. It’s only since she began attending the academy that she has fewer attendants around her, and her diet and daily habits haven’t been as carefully managed as at home — that’s why she’s fallen ill a few times.”

Consort Yi gave him a sidelong look. “Your mother is merely voicing a passing sentiment, and already you’re jumping to her defense with such urgency. Let me ask you: if you’re so fond of her, then these past days, how is it that you haven’t missed a single night at Consort Kang’s chambers?”

Prince Wu coughed awkwardly and said with some displeasure, “Mother, I’m already grown — can you not interfere so much in my household affairs? I know what I’m doing.”

“Does your mother wish to interfere so much?” Consort Yi sighed, her expression displeased. “You’re about to be married — don’t stir up trouble that would leave A’Yan feeling uncomfortable. And besides, those conception-preventing tonics are cold by nature; even with a palace formula, drinking too much of them is bad for a woman’s health.”

Seeing that her son was not taking up the thread, she sighed softly. “To speak plainly: when you first took Consort Kang as your side consort, I saw that she was far too young — a face full of girlish innocence, and her looks too striking. I was not in favor of you taking her. But you were set on it, coming to pester me day after day, until your mother had no choice but to relent. Now that you are betrothed, and A’Yan is the principal consort you sought with sincere intention, you ought to draw back from Consort Kang, to avoid the confusion between wife and concubine that leads to discord within the household.”

Prince Wu said with gravity, “Your son understands. I will never let A’Yan suffer any grievance.”

Yet Consort Yi did not seem altogether convinced. She simply looked at Prince Wu and said, “It’s late. You should return to your manor for now.”

Consort Yi did not seem altogether convinced. She simply looked at Prince Wu and said, “It’s late. You should return to your manor for now. Don’t forget the words you have spoken yourself.”

The next day, the stream of visitors coming to offer congratulations to the Qu family nearly wore down their threshold.

Everyone said the Qu family was blessed beyond measure — not only had their son achieved the highest rank in the imperial examinations, but their daughter was to be married into a great house like Prince Lan’s manor, and it was said the Heir of Prince Lan was renowned for his excellence in both the literary and martial arts. Truly the envy of all. Among those who came to call were colleagues who had long been on friendly terms with Qu Enze, officials of the same rank at court, and even relatives who had fallen out of contact with the Qu family and now came forward in considerable numbers.

The Qu couple was exhausted from receiving guests. After half a day, their faces had nearly stiffened from smiling.

Qin Yao stayed hidden in her own small courtyard and dared not go out. Yet her heart felt like a kite filled with wind, floating high in the air, unable to settle. She squandered an entire morning without accomplishing anything. In the end she simply picked up the Tao Te Ching again, using the act of copying it to calm her restless mind.

But as she copied, the corners of her mouth curled up of their own accord.

A’Ping, standing to one side, could not help but laugh. “Miss, stop quietly reveling in your happiness — be careful the ink drips onto the scripture.”

Only then did Qin Yao notice that although she had been holding the brush with an air of seriousness for quite some time, she had not completed even a single line. Worst of all, a full, swollen drop of ink hung at the very tip of the brush, about to fall but not yet fallen.

At this rate, she would certainly ruin the scripture. Qin Yao reproached herself silently, quickly put the scripture away, and dared not use the pretense of copying any longer.

She was just weighing whether to retreat to the garden to avoid the teasing looks of A’Ping and the others, when a servant came to announce that Miss Wang and her companions had arrived.

The night before, the palace had been crowded and Wang Yingning and the others had found no opportunity to speak with Qin Yao. So they had come together now, faces full of smiles, offering Qin Yao their congratulations one after another.

Liu Bingyu wore the expression of someone who had just caught Qin Yao out in something, slanting her eyes at her with a smile. “That time at Derong Zhai, I saw the Heir of Prince Lan talking and laughing with you and felt something was off — but the two of you just kept deflecting me. Now that the imperial edict has come down, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

Wang Yingning smiled demurely. “Back then the betrothal hadn’t been announced yet — how could anyone have gone about proclaiming it? Even those who knew something of the situation ought to have helped keep it quiet.”

Pei Min agreed that this was sensible, but added with a touch of regret: “What a pity that on account of the Wei Duke’s family’s affairs, His Majesty set your wedding date so close as well. In barely two months’ time, you’ll be married. Once you’re living in Prince Lan’s manor, it won’t be like home or the academy — I wonder if we’ll still be able to come and find you to play, the way we do now.”

Qin Yao knew that Lin Xiao would certainly not object to her spending time with her classmates. But since she was not yet married, and no matter how freespirited Qin Yao might be, she could not bring herself to say something as brazen as “just come anytime, don’t give it a second thought.”

Liu Bingyu laughed and turned to Pei Min: “Never mind A’Yao first — haven’t you nearly reached the age of your coming-of-age ceremony yourself? Your parents might settle a match for you before long. You might not be getting married all that much later than A’Yao.”

This struck right at the heart of Pei Min’s private concerns. Her usual aptitude for banter weakened considerably; she grew red-faced and flustered and, for once, forgot to retort.

While the group was in the middle of their conversation, Qing Xuzi and A’Han arrived.

Though the two of them were Qin Yao’s master and senior martial brother, and both were Daoists, Wang Yingning and the others still observed proper propriety and withdrew to avoid any awkwardness.

As the young women took their leave and came out, Qu Ziyu happened to be leading Qing Xuzi and A’Han through the entrance of the small courtyard at that very moment.

Since they had come specifically to congratulate Qin Yao, master and disciple both wore fresh, new Daoist robes, and their faces and hair had been carefully tidied up, quite clean and neat. A’Han’s features were not lacking to begin with, and after being properly dressed up, his handsome face was freed from its habitual air of simplicity, making him look considerably more striking than usual.

Liu Bingyu drifted at a leisurely pace on Qin Yao’s right, her face red, her eyes darting repeatedly toward A’Han. Several times she looked for an excuse to linger and slow her pace, but Wang Yingning and Pei Min were walking straight ahead without a sideways glance, leaving her with no recourse but to follow along, feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

A’Han was entirely oblivious. He laughed and chatted with Qu Ziyu with an easy, cheerful air, as though his martial sister’s betrothal were the happiest piece of news in the world to him.

As Wang Yingning drew near, Qu Ziyu’s gaze paused for a barely perceptible moment. Although he continued listening to A’Han, his expression visibly became distracted and inattentive. Yet in only a moment, Qu Ziyu recovered his composure, gave Wang Yingning a nod, and the two of them passed each other with a calm, unhurried air.