The maidservants drew the bath, filling it with fragrant warm water, and Qin Dan helped Yun Pan ease into the wooden tub. The Thousand Days Spring wine went down easily but had a strong finish; she wrung a cloth only half-dry and laid it across her forehead, closing her eyes and murmuring: “My tolerance for wine is really slipping. I used to be able to drink several cups without trouble…”

At least it hadn’t happened inside the Mao Garden. That would have been mortifying — people would say the new bride was foolish, getting half-drunk at her very first family dinner on the very first day.

In truth, everyone had drunk only a little. A small cup each. In both the capital and Youzhou, there was no official’s wife who did not know how to drink, for drinking was an essential part of social life. From the time the children were slightly older they would sit on the adults’ laps, who would touch the tips of their chopsticks to the wine and let the children taste it a little at a time.

One learned to drink almost as soon as one learned to eat. Most women were like this. Yun Pan felt her own tolerance was reasonable; it was probably the months spent at her aunt’s home, where she had not felt it was appropriate to drink much, that had quietly worn her tolerance down.

Qin Dan came to dry her, and Mingke brought her sleeping robe to help her change. She touched her own cheeks — warmth still lingered along her cheekbones. She pressed the back of her hand against them; her hand too was blazing hot.

Nanny Yao came to settle her in bed, and before leaving slipped the wedding kerchief back under the pillow. No more needed to be said — everything that should have been said had been said. She was a clever woman; she knew what she should do. Like earlier this afternoon — His Grace the Duke of Weiguo had already said he would sleep in the study, and to Nanny Yao’s ears, that was no good sign at all. But later Madam had dissuaded His Grace from the idea, which meant she had noticed it herself.

Nanny Yao stepped back and said: “Madam, if there is anything you need in the night, please call out — there are people keeping watch in the east side room.” She made her bow and withdrew.

Yun Pan lay on the bed, her mind hazy, but her heart clear. She watched the lamplight outside be carried away by someone; the shadow shifted slowly, drawing the carved-lattice silhouette across the standing lamp long and ghostly.

Quiet, shallow footsteps approached. Her heart tightened. She hurriedly closed her eyes.

The bed gave a faint tremble as someone sat down, followed by the soft rustle of fabric. He must have lain down beside her.

How strange it was — two people who by day were perfectly courteous and kept a careful distance from each other, and yet by night had to share one pillow. Both of them were a little uncertain in their hearts, knowing that this arrangement would never change, that it would go on long and steady into the future, and it seemed there was no choice but to grow accustomed to each other.

He quietly turned his head to look at her. Perhaps because she had drunk a little wine, her cheeks were flushed, like a child having a sweet dream. After a long moment, her lashes quivered almost imperceptibly, opening the narrowest of slits — she was very likely trying to steal a glance at him — and she found herself looking directly into his gaze. Her surprise and embarrassment were impossible to conceal. Her cheeks grew even more crimson.

He laughed. “You’re not asleep?”

She shook her head, mortified.

“Were you waiting for me?”

As he asked this, he turned naturally onto his side toward her. The two bolsters nearly touched; their faces were barely a foot apart — so close, so very close that with the smallest shift forward he could reach her.

Her face was flushed scarlet, yet her eyes were bright. Though the marriage was done and she was a duchess in name, she was still fresh — like a blossom unfurling in morning dew, a girl full of loveliness.

She too turned slightly toward him, as though there were many private things they needed to say to each other. She blinked. He prepared to listen. She drew in a small breath, and then — unexpectedly — said: “That Thousand Days Spring wine — that’s the specialty of the Zhongshan Garden, isn’t it?”

And so only fine wine and fine food must never be let down. He sighed inwardly and said yes, “Along with the Jade Wave from the Banlou and the Immortal Nectar from the Xinle Pavilion — they are known as the three great vintages.”

“No wonder I found it so delicious… but the aftertaste really is strong. I’m still dizzy now. Come to think of it, Grandmother, Mother, and little sister Hui Cun — their tolerance must all be better than mine.”

On a newly wedded couple’s bed, discussing who had the better tolerance for wine — was that appropriate?

He said nothing. He regarded her with a raised brow and a quiet smile.

Yun Pan began to feel a little ashamed, and went on: “When you said earlier that you’d sleep in the study if you came home late — that startled me.” Seeing slight puzzlement on his face, she explained: “If you were going to sleep in the study, it would mean you were not very satisfied with this marriage — not very satisfied with me. Then I would have to reflect on myself — whether I had done something wrong somewhere. But I also felt that I was doing well enough, and with you not coming back, I would have grown more and more troubled… Please never say anything like that again. I mean it.”

She was probably genuinely a little muddled by now. Her words had a more and more childlike quality.

His heart stirred. He reached over and enclosed her slender fingertips in his palm, and said softly: “Very well. I’ll remember.”

There was a small longing in his heart — to be close to her, the way plants grow toward the sun, so that even thorns, growing from a cliff face, will stretch out their branches to touch the light outside.

He moved toward her one fraction, then another — and she showed no resistance. Even the hand held in his palm returned his grip, faintly but unmistakably, for just a moment.

In this curtained bed, a warmth began to rise. He released her hand, raised it, and touched her soft cheek. His fingers moved slowly from her cheek to her delicate chin, then he leaned close and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Her lips were full and soft, like a small upturned water-chestnut. He kissed her, and she flushed with shyness — but she did not pull away.

He hesitated, and asked with care: “Are you ready?”

Perhaps it was too direct, but he needed to understand her feelings clearly and without ambiguity.

How was one supposed to answer a thing like that? Yun Pan stammered: “Today, because of me, you were put in a difficult position with Mother.”

He was perceptive; those few words were enough to tell him everything she was thinking.

They would come to this point sooner or later. After all, both the Duke of Chenguo and the Duke of Chuguo already had legitimate sons. His own intention to delay — not to seize the advantage from them — was in itself a statement of where he stood. Under the pressure of power, falling behind was acceptable; falling too far behind was another matter entirely. Unless one had no ambition whatsoever and was prepared to one day be the meat beneath another’s blade…

He reached out his arm and drew her into his embrace. “Tomorrow we go to the palace to express our gratitude. If we observe the rites tonight, I worry you will have no strength for it tomorrow.” His chest vibrated softly as he spoke, and she lay quietly against it, listening as he said in an unhurried voice: “The Empress Dowager will certainly speak with you privately. What she says, I cannot know — but listen to what she has to say. When we return from the palace, perhaps you will have thought of things differently. When you have considered the path ahead clearly, then make your decision.”

Yun Pan understood. He in fact knew everything. This marriage had been arranged by the palace, and from his position, he could not help but harbor some wariness. Going to the palace tomorrow also gave her the chance to think it through — and then to decide whether to be fully his partner in life. In its own way, this was a kind of consideration for her.

He always thought further ahead than she did. Beneath that calm exterior, there was a depth of mind she could not fathom.

She said all right, and slowly withdrew from his arms, lying back on her own pillow.

She could not tell how much time passed before she finally fell into a drifting sleep. When she woke, she found him lying on his side facing her. Often the body’s posture mirrors what lies within — at the very least, he was not pushing her away out of suspicion and wariness, and he would not leave her feeling, at the very start of their marriage, that they shared a bed but not a life together, turning her heart cold toward this union.

Today she needed to enter the palace, and she would have to be properly dressed. A princess consort’s wife was not like the families of ordinary officials; upon marriage, a duchess immediately held a rank title, and with it came her official ceremonial robes. Since the Duke of Weiguo held first rank of the first grade, her own rank followed her husband’s: she would wear the jeweled hair ornaments and the pheasant-patterned robe, with even the inner lining and knee panels to be arranged in strict accordance with ceremonial law.

Nanny Yao had served the late Madam Ming and was thoroughly versed in all the ceremonial regulations of a duchess. She stood to one side, guiding Ruolan in placing the wide-winged headdress and flower-hair ornaments on Yun Pan’s head. Then came the pearl face ornaments — the slanting red marks, the floral hairpins, even the beauty spots at the corners of the mouth — all adorned with pearls.

When everything was done, Princess Consort Liang came in from outside. She looked Yun Pan up and down and smiled: “Truly a dignified and graceful bearing — and she carries the ensemble well.” Then she added: “Once you are inside the palace, there is no need to be alarmed. Simply keep to your proper place, speak with care, and the Empress Dowager is compassionate — she will not make things difficult for you.”

Yun Pan said she understood. “I will be careful. I will not bring shame upon His Grace.”

The Princess Consort nodded and led her out the door. Outside, Li Chenjian was already waiting. But seeing her in pearled makeup for the first time — the small pearls, strung in patterns of understated elegance and delicacy, looked on her face particularly beautiful — he let his gaze soften, said simply “Come,” and turned to walk ahead as guide. Behind him, maidservants supported Yun Pan as they crossed the front courtyard and out through the main gate.

From the night he had come to escort her into the manor, today was the first time she stepped back outside its gates. She turned to look back, made a bow to Princess Consort Liang who had come to see them off at the gate, then took Li Chenjian’s hand and settled into the carriage.

The carriage moved forward, turned out of the alley, and onto the imperial avenue. The two of them sat face to face in the close interior of the vehicle. He maintained his customary serenity; it was Yun Pan who was tense, clutching the embroidered edge of her sleeve tightly in her hands, her head lowered, the small pearl droplets along her headdress trembling with the slightest movement.

He told her not to be afraid. “Think of it as meeting an elder of your clan — all you need to do is fulfill your own duty.”

Yun Pan was distressed. She furrowed her brow. “I was calm enough when we left the house. I don’t know what happened — the closer we get to the palace gate, the more my heart pounds.”

He said everyone felt this way. “If the Emperor were to summon me suddenly one day, I could hardly help feeling the same unease.”

So no one was made of iron. Hearing him say this, she steadied herself, loosened her hands, smoothed the creases on her lap, and straightened her back again. The youthful face, the solemn expression — it was somehow both imposing and rather endearing.

He turned to look out through the bamboo curtain at the street beyond, a quiet smile rising in his eyes — one he made sure she could not see.

At last the carriage reached the outer gates of the Gong Rui Gate, where eunuchs had been waiting for some time. Li Chenjian stepped down first and turned back to assist her. She placed her hand in his — this gesture already felt, somehow, very practiced — and from the corner of her eye she glanced at the figure beside her: with him there, she felt calm.

An inner attendant came forward with blessings, calling out in a long, ringing voice: “Congratulations to His Grace and Madam on your joyful union.” Li Chenjian returned the bow. “Many thanks, honored attendant.”

They made their way south through the Linhua Gate and the Yingyang Gate, and just a little further on lay the Empress Dowager’s Shouqing Palace.

Standing at the palace gate and looking in, one saw a vast, majestic hall, five sets of vertical-lattice doors thrown wide open. Inside, three figures in full ceremonial attire were already seated in their places.

Yun Pan had never entered the palace before, and had never laid eyes on the imperial family’s noble figures. She had been full of quiet apprehension, but with Li Chenjian at her side, she followed him, step by steady step, into the hall.

She pressed both hands to her brow and knelt on the brocaded cushion. The hall resonated with a voice as clear and ringing as struck gold: “Your minister Li Chenjian, together with his wife of the Jiang family, kowtows in gratitude to the Empress Dowager, the Emperor, and the Empress for their gracious blessing.”

Those above naturally bade them rise. When they stood, the Empress Dowager looked them over carefully, then smiled: “Truly a perfect pair — just look at how well matched they are!”

The Empress added with delight: “Your Ladyship has made a splendid match with this pairing. This girl and the County Mistress look so alike!”

“Don’t they!” The Empress Dowager commanded her ladies-in-waiting to offer seats, then laughed and beckoned. “Come, come — sit down and let me have a proper look at you.”

Yun Pan expressed her gratitude and settled into the round-backed chair. The women began speaking of daily matters. The Emperor had no interest in such conversation; he clasped his hands behind his back and said to Li Chenjian: “There are some things I wish to discuss with you. Let’s find another place for tea.”

Li Chenjian said yes, stepped to the side to let the Emperor go first, and as he turned, cast a quick glance at Yun Pan. Seeing that she was composed, he was satisfied, and followed the Emperor out of the Shouqing Hall.

The Empress Dowager was somewhere in her sixties or seventies, but had been well looked after and did not look especially old. She asked warmly for Yun Pan’s given name in the family, and then her age, and then laughed: “I arranged this match and yet I never even knew what the child looked like. I thought — this is the daughter of Yue Yin, so she can hardly be anything but wonderful — and seeing her today, I was right.”

The Empress said: “The County Mistress built a residence in Youzhou, and her health is poor, so she rarely attends the palace’s grand banquets. Si Si was never able to come to the palace either.”

The Empress Dowager’s gaze lingered on Yun Pan’s face, as if she were recalling a time long past. She said, with a touch of wistfulness: “Yue Yin and I were once very close. She would often follow the Grand Princess to the palace to see me. When she said she wanted to marry Jiang Heng, the Grand Princess was utterly displeased — she said the man had little vision and would come to nothing. The Grand Princess had the sharpest eye for people, and she was proved right in the end.” Then she asked: “Do you still remember your maternal grandmother?”

Yun Pan said: “In reply to the Empress Dowager, my maternal grandmother passed away when I was three years old. At first I had a few faint impressions, but as the years went by, I gradually forgot them all.”

The Empress Dowager nodded. “Your maternal grandmother was a heroine among women. When she sent her husband off to war, she was carrying your mother in her womb, and she personally oversaw the marshaling of the troops on your maternal grandfather’s behalf. Who in the court did not speak of it with admiration! When your maternal grandfather later died in battle on the frontier, your maternal grandmother never remarried. In recognition of your maternal grandfather’s loyal valor, the court bestowed the County Mistress title upon your aunt and your mother, and conferred honors upon your father as well — that is how the Marquis Kaiguo’s household came to be as it is today. Ah, even now, when I think of those two grandparents of yours, I still feel a deep regret. Such wonderful people, not granted long enough lives — they left too soon. But their whole hearts, faithful to this dynasty and to the Emperor, were witnessed by heaven and earth, and all of us saw it.”

Yun Pan said she understood, and of course she understood what the Empress Dowager was getting at with this lengthy account — it was simply a way of reminding her that the Grand Princess and her husband had been models of loyalty, and that their descendants ought to carry on that legacy, placing the nation before the family.

And indeed, after all these roundabout words, the conversation arrived at the matter at hand. The Empress Dowager smiled: “Originally this match was meant for your cousin. But your cousin’s temperament — it truly is not suited to marriage. Now that you have married Ji Fu, it is all family coming closer together. I have also heard of your father’s recklessness. It is a pity that affairs within private households are not something the court can easily intervene in. But bringing you back into the Li family — that at least is something done for your maternal grandmother and your mother.” She paused and asked: “What do you make of Ji Fu? Now that you are married, is he good to you?”

Yun Pan had long been prepared for this question. She replied: “This marriage was arranged by the Empress Dowager. His Grace naturally treats me with great consideration — not only because of the long-standing bond between our two families, but also because of the Empress Dowager’s gracious blessing.”

The Empress Dowager and the Empress exchanged a glance. From that single answer alone, one could see that this child knew how to read a situation and when to advance and when to yield.

This was good. Talking to a clever person required no exhausting maneuvering. There was no need to dance around the subject any further. The Empress Dowager raised her hand slightly, and the attendants standing in the hall withdrew, leaving only two close ladies-in-waiting. The Empress Dowager then said: “The last time I summoned your aunt, I spoke with her at length. No doubt she passed all of it on to you when she returned?”

Yun Pan, sitting in the chair, gave a small bow. “She did.”

“Such is the situation in the court. The Duke of Chenguo, the Duke of Chuguo, and the Duke of Weiguo are the Emperor’s three nephews — there is no reason to hide this — and the great succession will one day be entrusted to one of these three. In our eyes, all three imperial nephews are equal, and all three have futures of great promise. But when all is said and done, there must be a winner and a loser, and you ought to understand that. I do not ask you to be at odds with your husband. I only hope you will look out for yourself — should your husband succeed, that is well and good; but if things change one day, you must have a path of your own to take.”

The Empress Dowager had spoken with such gravity that the color had drained somewhat from Yun Pan’s face. The Empress noticed and intervened gently: “With the merit and service of the Grand Princess and the Consort Prince behind you, you will be protected no matter what comes. We have watched Ji Fu for many years now, and there is not one thing about him that displeases us. It is only his very close ties to the Duke of Chenguo that… this man has too many schemes.”

Yun Pan suddenly understood. At the root of it all, they were worried that the Duke of Weiguo and the Duke of Chenguo might combine their forces and seize power before the Emperor had named a successor. After all, the two of them held authority over the Capital Garrison and the Palace Command — and unlike the Duke of Chuguo, who was far away in Fengzhou, their proximity was both emotionally and practically advantageous. Yet to the palace, this proximity also meant greater threat.

“A wife rises with her husband’s fortune, and falls with his — that is true enough. But to fall together is an injustice to a woman. After all, a man goes out to manage his affairs and a woman cannot reach in to help. If he ever loses his head for a moment, being able to hold him back from the brink is the finest way to preserve one’s life.”

The Empress Dowager said all of this with a smile, yet what Yun Pan felt was an inexplicable, crushing pressure.

She had in fact been thinking about it all along — knowing that husband and wife are one body, why was she being asked to watch over the Duke of Weiguo? Now she understood. The Empress Dowager’s design was about maintaining balance. The Duke of Weiguo’s every move would be reported by people loyal to the Duke of Chenguo and the Duke of Chuguo’s households. What she herself was truly expected to keep an eye on was the Duke of Chenguo and the Duke of Chuguo.

What extraordinary effort this had all required. So this was the art of breeding vipers against one another. Or perhaps simply a desire to keep the inner households of the three dukes quietly at war with each other, ensuring they would never form an alliance — so the Emperor could sleep without fear, and no one would attempt a palace revolt for as long as he sat on the throne.

Yun Pan had grown up sheltered in the women’s quarters and had never once touched the world of political affairs. Now, being asked to absorb all of this unspoken intelligence, she felt her mind and body utterly drained.

But there was at least this comfort: she no longer needed to be her husband’s enemy. Anyone in this world who truly went against their own husband had already forfeited any possibility of one day standing beside him.

She rose, and bowed to the Empress Dowager and the Empress with full and solemn formality: “Your subject and your subject’s husband pledge our lives to this dynasty and to the Emperor. If one day Ji Fu were indeed to lose his way, your subject would have the resolve to sever her own hand. Please watch over us, Your Ladyship and Your Majesty.”

The Empress laughed and said to the Empress Dowager: “You see, Your Ladyship — Si Si truly is just as clever and quick as the County Mistress was in her day.”

The Empress Dowager was very pleased as well. Afterward she spoke many warm and intimate words, asked after Princess Consort Liang, and even inquired about the Senior Madam Hu’s health.

When Yun Pan left the palace, two eunuchs followed behind her carrying imperial gifts. Li Chenjian was waiting for her at the Gong Rui Gate; when he saw her walking toward him, he reached out to take her hand and asked: “Did everything go smoothly?”

She looked up at him with a smile and said it had all gone well. She gave his hand a light, gentle shake. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”