Winter was bleak and desolate. The New Year was drawing nearer by the day, and Wu Jing’s city streets had already been dressed in red and green. Not even the cold could hold back the common folk streaming in to buy New Year goods; every shop was packed with jostling heads, and the teahouses and restaurants were no different — filled to bursting.

The topics of conversation in Wu Jing changed daily. The recent subject of gossip, however, was a previously unknown young woman. Word had it she had grown up in the countryside, crude in her behavior, unbridled in speech, with the mouth of a crow. Furthermore, her body was frail and her appearance was one of a person destined for a short life.

Shen Qinghe sat in a private room of a teahouse, listening to the laughter and discussion drifting over from the neighboring room. His brow furrowed. The way they spoke… this sounded distinctly like that Lang Jiu girl.

But no — the Lang Family was in mourning, and she should have been staying inside the household. Besides, she had grown up on the estate and had rarely walked the streets of Wu Jing. How had she suddenly acquired such a reputation?

Was someone deliberately stoking this from behind the scenes?

Shen Qinghe’s expression darkened. He glanced at his young manservant Changgui: “Go find out — who are they talking about?”

The words had not yet settled when a laughter-laced voice floated over from next door: “The way Young Master Zhou tells it — which young lady has such ability? She can curse someone just by opening her mouth? If that is so, does everything she says come true? That is rather terrifying.”

“Who else could it be? Naturally, it is that young miss from the Kaiping Marquis’ residence who was raised on an estate from childhood — the one ranked ninth, I believe?”

Clunk.

Shen Qinghe set his teacup heavily on the table. His face had gone as dark as the bottom of a pot. So it truly was that child.

Changgui, seeing his master’s expression, hurried to say: “Sir, shall this servant go drive them off?”

“Drive them off for what? If such a rumor has spread, someone has certainly been deliberately spreading it. Go find out the source — how did this get started? She has only just returned from the estate. From the time the old Marquis passed until now, it has not even been a full month. The number of days she has gone out can probably be counted on two hands. In such a short time, she has already ‘made a name for herself across Wu Jing’ — if someone is not scheming behind the scenes, would you have me believe she spread it herself?” Shen Qinghe’s face was a dark, angry red, his eyes burning. “She is nothing more than a young girl who has not yet come of age. Calling her a crow-mouth, calling her frail and short-lived — they are trying to grind her into the mud.”

Either reputation, for a young woman, was nothing good. Once it spread, how would she make a good marriage? And even if she could, how many would have eyes discerning enough to see past it? Most who came asking for her hand would be nothing but undesirable riff-raff.

A foul reputation used against a person is murder without a blade. Truly ruthless.

“In truth, it was nothing more than heated words between two young girls — I would not call it a crow’s curse, would you?” A rather refined voice offered: “I was also present at the scene. The Guiyang County Princess had returned to the capital, and it was she who first galloped her horse through the streets — it is only unclear why the horse was suddenly startled and turned to charge toward its own party. That young miss did nothing but advise the County Princess to accumulate virtue and good fortune. That can hardly be called a curse.”

Shen Qinghe’s eyes narrowed to slits. The Guiyang County Princess — that was from Qi Zuyao’s family. So that was it. She must have gotten the worst of it at Lang Jiu’s hands.

He glanced at Changgui, who immediately bowed and slipped out to have the matter investigated.

“Brother Fang does not know the whole story — do you know what the most serious thing that crow-mouth of hers ever cursed?” Young Master Zhou asked in a low voice.

“Do tell.”

“The former Minister of Personnel, Elder Master Zhao.” Young Master Zhou said: “I heard — and I must stress, this is only what I heard — that when Elder Master Zhao went to the Kaiping Marquis’ residence to pay his condolences, that Lang Jiu saw him and said he would not live past three days. And then, as you all know what happened next… Rumor has it the Zhao Family would now like nothing better than to see that woman dead.”

A sharp intake of breath was audible from the neighboring private room.

“That… must surely be a coincidence?”

“Perhaps. But first there was Elder Master Zhao, and now this Guiyang County Princess. If you ask me — even if the ‘crow-mouth’ claim cannot be proven, there is something rather eerie about this woman.”

“The way you say it, I rather want to see this young miss for myself — what could she possibly look like? Something like a night demon?”

Laughter rippled through the room.

Shen Qinghe’s face was as dark as it could get. Those two brows of his had knitted into deep furrows. That Elder Master’s death — how had it come to be broadcast like this, going round after round? For it to have spread out of the Marquis’ residence’s mourning hall meant someone inside the Lang household had a very long tongue.

And Lang Zhengping — what kind of head of household was he, that such talk could get out and travel so far? That the Zhao Family wanted to do away with Lang Jiuchuan — what utter nonsense!

In the principal courtyard, Lang Zhengping’s own ears burned at that moment. His face was equally dark and iron-colored — for he had just heard from Gaoping about the rumors circulating outside. He rose and strode toward the main courtyard with purpose.

The household servants were going to need to be sifted through.

Meanwhile, on Shen Qinghe’s end — he had just moved to stand up and go next door to give those people a piece of his mind, when he heard a sudden commotion from that direction. A firm voice rose above it, rebuking them: scholars behaving like gossiping women, slandering someone’s reputation, without a shred of propriety or integrity — what shame to the sages’ teachings, and so on in that vein.

That voice sounded somewhat familiar.

It was Xue Shi.

Shen Qinghe strode in three quick steps to the doorway, pulled it open, and sure enough, there was Xue Shi pointing at the neighboring private room, delivering a tongue-lashing — his words fierce and cutting.

He felt an inexplicable surge of satisfaction.

For the first time, he found this man’s notorious sharp tongue positively pleasing to hear.

Shen Qinghe moved with feeling and wiped the corner of his eye, drying the faint trace of moisture that had gathered there.

Xue Shiyong had originally arranged to meet a friend at this teahouse. His friend had not yet arrived due to a sudden urgent matter, and so he had planned to request a refined private room and wait — when he encountered the imperial clan’s Su Prince Consort, who had likewise arranged to meet someone. And as it happened, the person the Prince Consort had arranged to meet was also Shen Qinghe.

And then he had heard the people in that neighboring room spouting wild fabrications, maligning a young girl’s name — a girl who was, moreover, his benefactor.

Even if Xue Shi had not known Lang Jiuchuan, hearing such talk would not have left him unmoved; he might simply have fired off a few cutting remarks and been done with it. But as he had received her kindness, his anger was naturally a measure greater.

Shen Qinghe walked over, first exchanging a cupped-fist salute with the Su Prince Consort, then greeting Xue Shi with the same courtesy. He looked into the room, taking stock of everyone inside, and said: “Xue Shi need not be angered. A gentleman guards his words — none of them managed even that. Clearly their character is wanting. I fear they will never be fit for important responsibilities in the future, and certainly will not serve in the same court as I. Much less could they aspire to become students of Luning Academy.”

The faces of those inside the room drained of all color.

They were all young masters of Wu Jing — even those not born here had studied here for years. To have been reprimanded by a great scholar of the Academy with a single unguarded remark, and then to be told by a third-rank official with the reputation of an iron-faced upright judge that they were unfit for important responsibilities — if that got out, what future would they have?

“Quite right — instead of applying yourselves to your studies, you sit here tittle-tattling like gossiping women, destroying a person’s reputation. You even bring beautiful female company to drink your tea. What talent could possibly come of that? Worthless lot, not worth a moment of anyone’s time!” Xue Shi flung his sleeve in fury and left in a huff.

Shen Qinghe committed the faces of those men to memory. He intended to have someone look into which families’ young masters these were, and make sure to submit a report citing improper upbringing of children.

He and the Su Prince Consort followed after Xue Shi and drew him into the neighboring private room, then called for fresh tea and pastries to be brought.

In the private room of the so-called Young Master Zhou, the two beautiful women seated beside him flushed scarlet with shame, their heads bowed, not daring to make a sound.

Everyone exchanged stunned glances, their faces cycling through a range of hues, until the one called Fang, his expression deeply ashamed, was the first to rise, clasp his hands in a parting bow, and take his leave.

What wretched luck today — to have done nothing more than join in on a fashionable topic of discussion, only for great personages to overhear, and be reprimanded on the spot. Once this spread, how would they ever show their faces again?