The matter was quietly swept under the rug without ever being mentioned again. Duke Shuguo’s household ran strict discipline, and the few servants who knew about it did not dare gossip outside the walls — so Mei Fen’s affair was never made public.

Yet Duke Shuguo had been carrying a heavy weight within him these past few days, and a large sore had broken out on his lip. Jiang Heng, spotting this, saw fit to jest about it. “Brother-in-law, you seem to have some internal heat — perhaps the food at home has been too spicy? It might be better to eat a little blander.”

Duke Shuguo sent him off with several consecutive dismissals.

Jiang Heng, for his part, was walking on air — as they say, a man in good fortune is in good spirits. Now that the betrothal with the Jin family was confirmed, the auspicious date for the wedding ceremony had been selected: the ninth month. Though just over two months was somewhat hasty, given that both parties had been married before, there were no particular requirements. On the day itself, they would simply go through the motions — carry the bride in by palanquin through the main gate and that would be that.

Duke Shuguo watched him glowing with satisfaction, managed to pull the corners of his own mouth upward, and said, “You have nothing left to wish for now.”

Jiang Heng rubbed the back of his head. “You know what I am like — I have relied entirely on Elder Sister and Si Si to manage everything for me.”

In any case, the man simply had a very good daughter.

Thinking of daughters made Duke Shuguo think of his own, and he still had no idea how to handle the situation. Jiang Heng invited him for drinks, but he waved it off with a polite refusal, shook his sleeves, and returned to his own carriage. Wearied, he lifted a hand and said, “Back home.”

As they pulled up to the residence gate, he pushed the curtain aside and gazed up at the lintel — a great and prosperous-looking household, impressive to any eye. Yet who would know how much worry festered within.

Madam Ming had taken to bed herself these past few days, claiming to have been struck by the summer heat, though he knew perfectly well she had been made ill by rage.

A concubine came forward to welcome him and helped him into the cool hall, where a wet cloth was brought for him to wipe his face. He had barely finished when a gatekeeper came in to deliver a message: the young master from the He family had arrived and was requesting an audience with the Duke.

Duke Shuguo paused, uncertain whether to receive him. He had originally taken Madam Ming’s words to heart and cursed He Xiao ten thousand times over in his mind — he had been one step short of going to that household and wringing He Xiao’s neck himself. But now that Mei Fen had done what she had done, all of that felt far less certain, and even He Xiao’s character had become a subject of doubt.

The concubine, seeing him in a daze, gave a soft call of “My Lord” — was he seeing the visitor or not?

Duke Shuguo came back to himself, sighed, and said, “Invite him to the front hall to wait.” He changed out of his court robes before making his unhurried way to the front.

Coming through the door, he saw He Xiao standing in the main hall, wearing a round-collar robe of moonlit white — the very bearing of a scholar. He had watched this child grow up from a boy, and though when Mei Fen’s accusations against him still rang fresh he had ground his teeth with hatred, now that he saw the man in person, he found it hard to believe he was truly so wicked.

He still remembered how, every time He Xiao came to call, he would set down whatever he was doing and come to the entrance to receive him in person. And that time at age six or seven, when this child had stood composing poems with such assured ease in the company of learned men — a young person of such decorum, how could he have deliberately pushed Mei Fen into the water and crept into the inner quarters to speak those outrageous words?

Ah — these days, it seemed, one dared not trust anyone. Duke Shuguo, thinking of his own supposedly honest daughter, found himself suspicious of everything in the world. He gave He Xiao a brief, guarded look and said, “You’ve come? Sit down.”

He Xiao bowed to him and sat in the rose-back chair. He smiled and said, “I have been busy with the autumn examinations these past few days and could not come sooner to pay my respects to Uncle.” He studied Duke Shuguo’s expression. “Is Uncle unwell? You do not look quite yourself.”

Duke Shuguo let out a low sound of acknowledgment. “The weather has been so hot — a touch of heat stroke. Did you come today for a particular reason?”

He Xiao said, “In a few days it will be my grandfather’s seventieth birthday. My father and mother wrote from home asking whether Uncle might have the leisure to travel to Luoyang for a cup of celebratory wine.”

That would normally be an important occasion requiring a personal visit. But with the household in such a state at present, he frankly did not feel comfortable leaving at will.

“I have pressing matters at court just now, and your aunt is also in the midst of preparing for Xiang Xu’s wedding — we truly cannot get away. I will have a birthday gift prepared and sent to Luoyang with someone, and please convey my apologies on our behalf to your grandfather and father.”

He Xiao smiled with the graceful air characteristic of a refined gentleman, and nodded agreeably. “The weather really is too hot for a long journey — the body simply cannot endure it.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Has the betrothal for Xiang Xu been confirmed? When will the wedding take place?”

Duke Shuguo said, “The betrothal gifts are scheduled for the end of the year, and the wedding itself will likely be discussed after next year.” He was making stilted conversation, really just casting about for something to say, and presently asked, half-absently, “How old are you now — have you settled on a young lady?”

But He Xiao fell silent. After a long pause, he gave a bitter smile. “The person I care for has given her heart to someone else. The last time I finally had the chance to speak my feelings to her, she told me not to harbor any foolish hopes.” He lowered his head. “It seems I do not know how to make a good impression — I cannot win her regard. Yet I have liked her since childhood, and my feelings have not changed to this day.”

Duke Shuguo listened with a start of inner surprise. Connecting this with what he had heard from Madam Ming, he realized that was he not speaking of Mei Fen?

But surprise was one thing; he could not rush to conclusions. He only said, “You are the finest young scholar in Luoyang and were born to a family of great distinction — who could possibly look down on you?”

He Xiao’s expression carried a trace of carefully managed sadness as he shook his head gently. “She has always disliked me, calling me a pedantic bookworm — she even goes out of her way to avoid me when she sees me. I have never been able to understand what I have done to earn such aversion from her.”

This account immediately made Mei Fen’s one-sided accusations feel far less convincing. When a person dislikes someone that deeply, they find fault with everything that person does — even the act of breathing. How could such a person ever accept a gesture of goodwill?

“Although, I must admit I had my own presumptuous moments. That day I brought up the idea of marriage to her without first consulting my own family. But I was driven by urgency — I had heard she had taken a liking to someone entirely unsuitable, and if the elders were to find out, I did not know what kind of storm it might unleash.”

This pushed Duke Shuguo’s head well past steady footing. So He Xiao had long known about Mei Fen’s shameful entanglement, and had kept silent all along, shielding her dignity — only to have her turn around and accuse him like a dog biting the hand that feeds it. Had it not been for the events of the past few days, he would have been deceived to this day and truly believed He Xiao to be some irredeemable villain.

“What are your intentions now — do you still wish to marry that young lady?”

He Xiao gave a barely perceptible tug at the corner of his lips, saying neither yes nor no. He hesitated at length, then gathered his courage and called out “Uncle.” “Has Cousin’s betrothal to Duke Weiguo been dissolved? As things stand now, has a new match been discussed for her?”

Duke Shuguo said no. “No suitable candidate has come along — we will wait a while longer. There is no great rush.”

He Xiao said ah, and fell into silence. He seemed on the verge of saying something, thought better of it several times, and in the end merely lowered his head.

Duke Shuguo observed his expression but did not pursue the subject, saying only, “Stay for a simple midday meal. I will have the servants begin preparations.”

He Xiao said he could not, however. “The reason I came to see Uncle today is that there is another matter I wished to raise.” He looked at Duke Shuguo, weighing his words.

Duke Shuguo had a fairly good idea of what was coming, but kept his expression neutral and nodded. “We are family — there is no need for roundabout language. Please speak freely.”

The string of bodhi beads in He Xiao’s hand was forgotten, still. It was as though he had gathered all his strength into the next few words. He rose to his feet and bowed deeply to Duke Shuguo. “Zhong Rou is unworthy, yet he wishes to say to Uncle: if Cousin has no suitable suitor in mind, would you consider me?”

Duke Shuguo’s expression shifted slightly. “This young lady you have been speaking of this whole time — are you saying it is Mei Fen?”

He quickly said no. “Since that person was unwilling, it must simply be that we have no affinity. I am twenty-two now, and my father and mother at home are pressing the matter. I do not know how to answer them. Uncle has watched me grow up — my character is something Uncle can vouch for. I only fear that the difference in our family’s respective ranks is too great. Though we are close kin, the difference in title is several degrees, and I have yet to obtain any official position for myself…”

Duke Shuguo said nothing, but studied He Xiao with a careful eye, and gave no direct answer. “This matter must be discussed with your aunt before I can give you a reply.”

He Xiao said as it should be. “Children’s marriages are, after all, for parents to decide.” He then rubbed his forehead in helpless embarrassment. “I do not know what came over me today to give rise to such thoughts. If I have overstepped, I ask Uncle to forgive me. I have said what I came to say and will not trouble Uncle any further. Please do not see me out, Uncle — I will take my leave now.”

Duke Shuguo said very well, and did not rise to see him off, watching as he was led out the door by a servant boy.

After a brief period of reflection, he made his way to the rear garden, entered the inner chamber, and found Madam Ming sitting at the table drinking tea. He said, with some surprise, “Why are you up?”

Madam Ming said, eyes drooping, “The more I sleep, the more drained I feel. I cannot keep lying there — I got up to walk around, and I do feel a bit better.” Then she asked, “Have you eaten? Let me have the kitchen prepare—”

Duke Shuguo said there was no hurry. “I have no appetite right now. There is something I want to discuss with you.” He recounted the details of He Xiao’s visit in full, and at the end murmured to himself, “I always said that Zhong Rou had been steady and composed since he was a boy — that he didn’t have that sort of dark, brooding disposition. Now I find he has been in love with Mei Fen all along, but she became infatuated with some useless man and couldn’t spare a glance for him. He tried to rescue Mei Fen from danger, and in return she panicked and bit him first — cutting off any chance of his proposing marriage to her. If it had not come to light these past few days, I would not know how much longer she would have kept us in the dark.”

Madam Ming let out a long sigh. “I truly never expected it — that Mei Fen would have such a mind of her own. She was flawlessly composed with her parents and simply went to Si Si with her complaints, so that on the day Si Si returned from her post-wedding visit, she came to me in tears on Mei Fen’s behalf, worried half to death over her. If Si Si ever comes to know the truth, will Mei Fen ever be able to face people again?”

“Ahh…” Duke Shuguo rubbed a hand over his face. “Leave those things aside for now — let us address first the matter of He Xiao’s marriage proposal. What is your own inclination? If Mei Fen truly never marries, we are a household of some standing — of course we have the means to support a daughter for life. But she says she won’t marry and then schemes and stirs up trouble in secret — who knows what other scandals might follow. Better to marry her off cleanly. What we cannot manage, let someone else manage. Right now I have not a shred of hope left for her. Every day I tread on eggshells, dreading to hear another piece of bad news — it is more exhausting than battling enemies on the battlefield. When I think it over — there is no wall without a crack in it. If Mei Fen were married to Zhong Rou, she could borrow the shelter of his good name and stop people’s mouths. What do you think?”

Madam Ming was at a complete loss. “She has no feelings for Zhong Rou…”

“Then who does she have feelings for? That penniless wretch who came seeking refuge here? Think it through carefully. It is not shameful for a young lady to marry someone below her station — what is shameful is marrying someone so far below that you fill a bottomless pit. Say nothing of others — look at Yue Yin. One misstep, and she dragged her daughter into a situation where, to this day, the girl is still subsidizing that useless father of hers. The lesson is right before our eyes — have you already forgotten it?”

Madam Ming was now wavering herself. “Feelings can be cultivated over time…”

Duke Shuguo said he understood that all too well. “Do you not remember — you didn’t want me either, at first? It was your mother who made the decision for you and gave you to me.”

Madam Ming heard this and cast him a sidelong glance. Indeed — the year she turned fifteen and suitors began to be discussed, he had just returned from Stone Fort City, and his face had been so weathered by wind and sun that he looked at least thirty. She had been unwilling at the time — “I will not be a second wife to anyone” — but her mother had gone on at great length that he had never been married, that he was only just past twenty, that he was an upright and generous man. She could not argue her way around it and had ended up reluctantly marrying him.

The Xiang Junjie she had come to know after the wedding had indeed changed her mind. Though he was a plain-spoken sort of man, he was attentive and considerate of his wife — she remembered the time he had gone out of his way to bring back a flatbread for her from far away — and she came to think that listening to her parents had not been wrong. Compared with Yue Yin, who had been bewitched by Jiang Heng’s pretty face and met such an end, the contrast was striking, and it set her thinking that perhaps she ought to take the matter into her own hands. In time Mei Fen would come to be grateful to her parents for it.

“Then let us settle it properly.” Madam Ming’s spirits, too, had somewhat dimmed, and she said with a sigh, “Such a precious daughter — and at the end of it all, it seems we have raised a resentment. It was my fault for failing to instill the right values in her. Given the state she is in now, it is probably only Zhong Rou who would still be willing to be patient with her. He knew the truth of things and still chose to spare her dignity without exposing her before you — I find Zhong Rou has some of Ji Fu’s principles about him.”

Duke Shuguo nodded. “One scholar, one warrior — at last we would have both. The only question is whether Mei Fen will know to count her blessings.”

The husband and wife had made up their minds, and Madam Ming naturally went to inform Mei Fen. She walked into Zilan Garden and found Mei Fen in her usual half-dead state. A small flicker of resentment rose in Madam Ming’s heart. She stood before the bed and said, “You are not getting any younger, and carrying on like this is not seemly. It is better that you marry and leave. Your father and I have found a match for you — someone you know: He Xiao. Whether you like him or dislike him, there is no better option available to you right now. After all, his mother is your father’s aunt, so at least she would not be a difficult mother-in-law. Prepare yourself properly, gather your spirits, and do not make trouble anymore. Your father and I are not young anymore and cannot withstand being worn down by you again and again. All these years your parents have been worried sick over you, and you ought to know it.”

The words were delivered without feeling — a simple, direct command. Mei Fen had been in a daze until suddenly she came to herself, sat up, and asked, “A’Niang — who are you saying you want me to marry?”

Madam Ming said He Xiao. “Your prejudice against him has always been too deep. I do not think he has anything particularly wrong with him. Once the engagement is settled, you can spend more time together, and perhaps feelings will develop with time.”

Mei Fen recoiled as though from an electric shock, staring at her mother in disbelief. “A’Niang — do you and Father dislike me so much? Do you see me as a burning hot potato you can’t wait to be rid of?”

Madam Ming’s face held no expression at all. Her eyes lowered as she said, “Your father and mother mean this for your good. When you reach our age, you will understand the depth of your parents’ love and care.”

She turned and walked out. Behind her, Mei Fen’s sobs rang out, and she did not pause or turn back — she closed her eyes, steeled herself, and walked on.

Ba Bao wanted to plead on Mei Fen’s behalf but did not dare, and could only turn back into the inner chamber to comfort her. “Young lady, please do not cry. Let us think of a way.”

What way was there to think of. This was apparently what her life was to be — she could not escape He Xiao’s clutches no matter what. He had laid his plans step by step, and even though what he did that time had been so despicable, it had not stopped him from seeing his intentions through. Father and Mother still believed him over her — when they weighed one against the other, He Xiao was naturally better than some household guard. To go and plead again would be useless. She could never be a match for He Xiao. The more she struggled, the more she lost face. She had lost the last of her will to fight, and everything was over.

Ba Bao and Tuan Yuan watched the light go out of her eyes entirely and wept with anxiety. “Young lady, you cannot resign yourself to this — there must be a way.”

She shook her head. “No one believes me anymore. Since the events of the past few days, I have been in a fog — thinking it was all a nightmare, yet no matter how I struggle, I cannot wake from it. I have no strength left.”

Ba Bao said, “Let me go find Cloud Lady. She had Qin Dan pass word the other time that no matter what happened, we could always come to the Duke of Wei’s household to find her.”

Mei Fen shook her head again. “What would I say if I found her? Tell her that I was found embracing a man I didn’t know? She probably would not believe me either.”

The incident had happened a few days ago, and today He Xiao came to propose marriage. Was there truly no cause and effect there? Mei Fen understood it perfectly in her heart — yet what did it matter that she understood? If she went to accuse He Xiao again now, who would believe her words were true? Most would probably say she had gone mad, and feel sorry for He Xiao for being burdened by a lunatic.

“Let it be — all is fate.” She leaned back against the bed frame and closed her eyes. “I cannot fight it. Let it be thus.”

Ba Bao could not help but cry out softly, “Young lady…”

She said calmly, “Enough — say no more. I am tired. Go out, all of you. Let me sleep a while longer.”

Ba Bao was anxious to stay and murmured, “Your servant will keep you company.”

Mei Fen, however, cast her a faint glare. “Even you are going to defy me?”

With that, the maidservants no longer dared say another word and retreated from the inner chamber.

The Mei Fen left alone inside finally let herself weep. She felt her path ahead was dark and endless, and that she would likely never have another chance at life. Better to end it herself now than to be ground down to nothing by He Xiao in the years to come.

So she struggled out of bed, pulled open the drawer of the mother-of-pearl inlaid cabinet, found the embroidery scissors she used for needlework, and steeled herself to drive the point straight into her heart — and be done with it all at once.

But… she raised the scissors again and again, and yet she could not find even the courage to go through with it. At last the scissors fell from her hand, landing at her feet. She crouched down on the floor and looked at them, quietly weeping. Sometimes she truly hated herself — hated how useless she was, toyed with by others and helpless to help herself in the slightest.

Should she go to Si Si? Finding Si Si would be no use — Father and Mother would only think that Si Si too had been deceived by her. She was now completely alone in the world, and her life ahead would likely be nothing but this same loneliness, on and on.

***

These past few days, Yun Pan had been genuinely busy. The renovation plans she had originally drawn up had gradually shifted somewhat. The architectural style of Youzhou and the capital favored grand, sweeping breadth — not at all like the delicate grace of the Jiangnan region. Since this was to be a handicrafts shop, what was needed was a nimble elegance distinct from the ordinary, and so she had instructed the craftsmen to build in the style of Gui Garden, recreating the whitewashed walls and dark-tiled roofs of Hengtang.

At first glance, it stood out among an entire row of timber-frame storefronts — the facade was exquisitely refined, precisely as she had envisioned. She stepped down from the carriage, satisfied, and looked it over. She told He Song to make sure the craftsmen were fairly compensated, gave a few more miscellaneous instructions, and as the sun climbed higher, she prepared to return to the Duke’s residence to have lunch with the Grand Madam and the Princess-Consort.

She was just about to board the carriage when she suddenly heard someone call out “Sister-in-law.” She turned and looked — it was the wife of Duke Chengguo, Madam Deng. That full, peony-like face was wreathed in smiles as she stood before the carriage and waved her over. “What a coincidence today — I rarely go out, and here I unexpectedly run into Sister-in-law.”

Yun Pan went over to exchange greetings, then glanced toward the rouge-and-powder shop ahead. “Has Elder Sister-in-law come to buy cosmetics?”

Madam Deng nodded. “It gets dreadfully dull sitting at home — nothing but needlework and playing with the children. I do like to come out and browse from time to time.” She then looked at the row of shops being renovated and asked, “I heard the owner of the rouge shop say you have taken over the place across the street. Are you planning to go into business yourself?”

Yun Pan felt a slight embarrassment. “I am just amusing myself, really — planning to open a small handicrafts shop, somewhere for leisured ladies and young women of good families to come and have tea and pass the time.”

Madam Deng looked her over with astonishment. “I would never have guessed — Sister-in-law has such ambition. Are you trying to compete with the Golden Pheasant Banquet?”

These words carried a not-so-subtle edge, and Yun Pan was not blind to it. She only smiled pleasantly and deflected. “The Golden Pheasant Banquet is a mark of social standing — everyone considers attending it an honor. My little shop is simply a gathering place, somewhere for people to come together, take tea, and do handicrafts. How could it possibly be compared to the Golden Pheasant Banquet?”

Madam Deng gave a sound of acknowledgment and said, covering her mouth, “Quite right. If Commandery Princess were to hear of it, would she not be upset?”

The Golden Pheasant Banquet had been founded and hosted by Commandery Princess Qingyuan — the late King of Han’s daughter, and thus a cousin of the Emperor himself. She had run it for thirty years. In itself, this new venture had nothing to do with the Golden Pheasant Banquet, yet the way Madam Deng put it made it sound as though Yun Pan were trying to seize someone else’s territory.

Yun Pan naturally needed to close off that insinuation. She said warmly, “Thank you, Elder Sister-in-law, for pointing this out. Tomorrow I shall call on the Commandery Princess in person and tell her about my little shop.”

Madam Deng smiled. “As well you should — courtesy costs nothing.” She paused a moment, then asked, “You and Ji Fu have been married — it will soon be a month now, hasn’t it?”

Yun Pan said it had only been half a month.

Madam Deng gave another soft sound of acknowledgment, then said in a low voice, “Grand Madam and Princess-Consort must be treating you very well at home — otherwise you would already be attending to the matter of Ji Fu taking a concubine. We daughters-in-law of the Li family all follow the same practice: whether newly married for days or not, if you get ahead of your mother-in-law and take the initiative to arrange your husband’s concubinage affairs yourself, that is your virtue. I am a plain-spoken person, and I have a genuine fondness for you — I am telling you this honestly. Please do not take it as my being too forward.”

Yun Pan felt discomfort inside, but kept her composure perfectly, quickly saying of course not. “Elder Sister-in-law is treating me as one of her own — speaking from her heart. If I took offense, that would make me ungrateful.”

Madam Deng curled the corner of her mouth slightly. “Good then. After all, we are all outsiders here — just giving you a heads-up so you don’t go down the wrong path.” She smiled again. “The hour is not early. Go about your business — I should be getting back.”

Yun Pan gave her a slight bow. “Take care, Elder Sister-in-law.”

Madam Deng nodded and was helped into the carriage by her maidservant.

Watching the carriage disappear, Nanny Yao frowned deeply. “That Duchess of Chengguo is really something — when she was newly married half a month, did she go about arranging concubines for Duke Chengguo?”

Yun Pan smiled. “She just wanted to make me uncomfortable. There is no need to take it to heart.”

But try as she might to say she was not taking it to heart, she found herself turning the matter over and over in her mind for quite some time afterward. Was it true — that to be a virtuous wife, one had to proactively arrange concubines for one’s husband? In this world as it was now, it did seem that there were indeed very few men who kept no concubines…

She sighed and said, “Let us go home.”

Returning home required her to put on a cheerful face again — helping the Princess-Consort select the furnishings for Hui Cun’s trousseau, chatting with Grand Madam about what she had seen outside, reporting on the progress of the shop renovations.

She mentioned the chance encounter with the Duchess of Chengguo and raised the question of whether she should pay a courtesy call on Commandery Princess Qingyuan. Grand Madam said, “Her Golden Pheasant Banquet is held only once a year — as if aside from her banquet, noble ladies and young women have no other reason to meet? Besides, she is in the middle capital right now escaping the summer heat — if you go to her residence, you will not even find her there and will have made the journey for nothing. As for what Madam Deng said, you need not pay any attention to it. That woman has no real substance to her — she is not even close to being in the same league as the Duchess of Chengguo from Chenguo.”

Yun Pan acknowledged this with a yes. As for the question of taking a concubine, she naturally did not mention it at all. After the meal she returned to her own quarters, and even through the midday rest period her heart remained unsettled. She could not sleep properly and kept drifting in and out of dreams — in one she saw someone lead in a young and beautiful girl, saying this girl was the orphaned daughter of a fallen official, proficient in all four arts, asking for no formal status, only for a meal to eat—

And Li Chenjian had actually accepted the offer with a smile!

***

Meanwhile, in Qizhou, as night fell, the sounds of song and dance were naturally never in short supply.

As the resident local authority, the Prefect of Qizhou saw it as his duty to show proper hospitality to the visiting Military Commissioner on official business. And having learned that his superior had recently taken a wife, he made a great fuss of insisting there must be a banquet in the Commissioner’s honor, to express his congratulations.

Li Chenjian sat in a round-back chair behind the hanging screen. A rhombus-shaped wedge of light fell across the tip of his boot. He lifted a faint smile, his brow and lashes looking entirely harmless in that posture, as he said in an easy tone, “By all rights I ought to be hosting a dinner to thank all of you — how could I let Prefect Sun go to the expense?”

Sun Yong, in the Military Commissioner’s absence, was effectively the second-in-command of the Qizhou garrison. He had once been loyal and devoted to Li Chenjian, but with time he had developed his own calculations and, knowing certain secrets, had gradually grown presumptuous in the Commissioner’s presence.

A military man, barely literate, with a roughness of character plain to see, who loved to fancy himself clever — such a person was dangerous. Li Chenjian had already been deliberately bypassing him in certain matters, but the man did not have the sense to take the hint and was always eager to poke his nose into everything.

He bellowed cheerfully, “I have already made arrangements to invite several prefects and provisional governors. Today I have made sure the Commissioner will attend — if you refuse to come, you will not be giving Old Sun here any face.” He gave a couple of pleased laughs. “Besides, I have a few things I would like to say to the Commissioner in private.”

Li Chenjian raised an eyebrow at this and smiled. “Then I must defer to your kind insistence.”

The most famous wine establishment in the Qizhou market district was Guo Family Garden. Qizhou was not a large prefecture — perhaps a third the size of the capital — yet its market district had everything under the sun. The business at Guo Family Garden was brisk, operating almost through the night without a break in the flow of guests. The moment Li Chenjian stepped down from his carriage, he was ushered inside. Entering the private room, he found a lead entertainer in light dress performing a graceful song and dance at the center of the hall. As soon as the honored guest arrived, she cast languid glances in his direction, the corners of her brow and eyes full of a coquettish spring warmth. She poured a cup of fragrant tea and offered it to him with both hands, her jade arms half-visible beneath the gossamer green gauze of her sleeves, her complexion white as mutton-fat jade.

Sun Yong grinned and presented his achievement to Li Chenjian. “The Commissioner doesn’t like visiting entertainment houses, so I invited Qizhou’s most celebrated entertainer, Miss Zhang, to perform here at Guo Family Garden — surely that does not count as overstepping, does it?”

Miss Zhang’s figure was bewitching. Seeing Li Chenjian did not reach out to accept the cup, she extended the offering again, only to be intercepted by the deputy commander who had come to his side. “Our Commissioner’s stomach is delicate — he cannot take tea on an empty stomach. Your kind gesture, on behalf of the Commissioner, this officer will gratefully receive.” With one upward tilt he drank the tea down himself.

The party arranged themselves on the fine woven mats, and the servers brought low tables in a steady procession into the private hall, setting one before each guest. Dishes and drink having all been set out, the cups were filled and toasts began to be exchanged all around.

Sun Yong led the first toast to Li Chenjian. “When the Commissioner got married recently, we could not get away from our duties here to go to the capital in person and offer congratulations. Allow us to make up that toast now — Commissioner, please drink it to the last.”

Li Chenjian raised the cup, his fingers holding it lightly. In the light of the room’s corner lanterns, the unhurried, jade-like refinement of his bearing was rendered all the more clearly. He smiled and said, “My thanks — I drink on behalf of my wife, in gratitude for all your generous good wishes.”

The white jade square cup was lifted high. Below the crossed collar of his inner robe, an elegant, finely proportioned stretch of neck was exposed. The light movement of his throat — even the worldly Miss Zhang, who had seen more than enough of men, could not help but inwardly breathe a word of admiration.

Some four or five years earlier, she had caught a glimpse of this Military Commissioner at a banquet. He had not yet been enfeoffed as Duke of Wei at the time — she had known only that he was the sole son of the late Prince Liang Zhongxian, a true scion of imperial blood. Men of such a background, she thought, generally had an appetite for romantic diversions — yet he kept himself clean and pure, remaining quite simply a young, unsullied gentleman who never sat mixed in with female entertainers and whose gaze never lingered on a woman. She had once thought him falsely virtuous and had even considered testing him, but she couldn’t even get close to him — his deputy was always there to intercept her first.

That had been galling enough. And today it was the same again. Miss Zhang, whose charms drew men in flocks like moths to a flame, found herself not a little put out. The crowd drank and made merry. She sang another song, “The Bitterness of the Magpie Bridge,” putting all her tender longing and admiring gazes into that single line — “I am consumed with feeling for you, yet you do not know.”

Some in the room were entranced by her song; others appeared distracted. And so those resentful eyes fixed themselves on him, pouring the full force of her emotion directly into the song sung for him alone. Even those rough-mannered officers noticed it and started a boisterous uproar: “What has come over Miss Zhang tonight — not singing ‘The Swallows Pair,’ but ‘The Bitterness of the Magpie Bridge’? Could it be she has someone particular in mind?”

That clear, still gaze finally looked over. Miss Zhang was a woman of considerable pride and refused to believe her own charms could not move him. She poured a cup of wine and offered it toward him. “Your servant also wishes the Commissioner…” The deputy at his side moved to intercept again. She gave a sound of impatience and stepped around him, looking directly at Li Chenjian. She smiled and said, “Commissioner — will you not grant me even this much face?”

Then she watched his hand rise, and her heart gave a secret leap of triumph, certain he was about to accept her gesture. Instead he simply used one finger to push aside the cup that had been thrust before his face and said, mildly, “I appreciate the kind thought. I simply make it a rule never to drink with any woman other than my own family.”

He was being relatively tactful about it, all things considered. If he had simply said outright “I do not drink at establishments like this,” that would have been a far more complete humiliation.

Whether from the stuffiness of a room full of people, or from the unsettled state of her mood, a trace of moisture appeared at the tip of Miss Zhang’s nose. In the depths of those luminous, softly brimming eyes was a grievance too vast to name. But the man across from her had not so much as a flicker of tenderness or pity — he had been gifted with such a fine exterior, all entirely to no purpose.

Miss Zhang said, rather sourly, “The Commissioner must have married a wife from a family very strict in its proprieties.”

Everyone at the table was clearly quite interested in learning more.

Li Chenjian gave a slight smile. “I have been fortunate enough to marry a young lady of distinguished family. Naturally, I must conduct myself with dignity and self-discipline to be worthy of such a person.”

Now, there was false modesty for you. Ask anyone in the court — in the entire realm — whose daughter the Emperor’s own nephew could possibly be unworthy of? This was merely his way of deflecting. The implication was plain enough: a man of imperial lineage naturally could only be paired with a woman of high noble birth; entertainers and their kind were beneath his notice, and no amount of self-delusion would change that.

Miss Zhang gave a strained smile, composed herself, and redirected all her warmth and artistry toward the other men present. The company drank and made lively conversation, touching on the matter of the current merger of the two armies — nothing too sensitive, nothing that couldn’t be said freely even before entertainers.

By the time the night grew deep and the various wine establishments and taverns in the market district grew quiet, the officials had drunk their fill. What remained was up to each person — those who went home went home; those who sought a flower for the night went to seek one. They were free to do as they pleased.

Sun Yong saw the other guests off, turned back, and found Li Chenjian also about to leave. He called out quickly, “Commissioner, please wait.” Those small eyes made two calculating rotations. “There are still a word or two I would like to speak to the Commissioner about.”

Li Chenjian paused his movement, dispatched the other attendants who had come with him, keeping only the deputy commander Fang Gan behind. He returned to his seat on the mat and gestured with his hand. “Prefect, please speak.”

Sun Yong had set the stage very thoroughly. He slid the latticed door shut with the air of a man with vital secrets to divulge, then sat down and inched his body forward. “Commissioner — has your servant done something that has displeased you, that you have been bypassing me in your affairs of late?”

Li Chenjian kept his expression easy and warm and smoothed the creases of his robe. “Prefect, what makes you say that?”

Sun Yong slapped his chest. “Old Sun may be rough-and-ready, but he knows a thing or two about military matters. This time when the garrison army was transferred into the Lulong Army, the troops the Commissioner deployed were all elite units — that must mean something, surely?”

Li Chenjian had little fondness for his tendency toward theatrical effect, but showed no irritation outwardly, and said unhurriedly, “The Qizhou Army is divided into left, center, and right divisions. The right flank is closest to Youzhou, so naturally the right flank was reassigned to integrate with the Lulong Army — does the Prefect find anything amiss with that plan?”

Sun Yong huffed. “That explanation might fool a layman, Commissioner, but Old Sun has been knocking about in the army for twenty years. Officers have come and gone in wave after wave, but Old Sun is the iron nail that never moves. Whatever the Commissioner does, Old Sun is bound to notice.”

Li Chenjian’s smile, which had remained in place until now, gradually cooled at the eyes. He cast a brief glance at Sun Yong and said, “Prefect, what exactly are you implying? I confess I find myself somewhat unable to follow.”

Sun Yong shielded his face with his wine cup and leaned in still closer. “Commissioner — speaking frankly: might you have some undisclosed connection with the Lulong Army? Outwardly you have appeared to maintain an equal distance from both sides, but in fact long ago reached an agreement with the Lulong Army Commander on a larger plan?”

The man reeked of wine. Li Chenjian could not help but lean slightly away, though his expression remained unreadable. Inwardly, however, his decision was already made.

“Prefect, the merger of the two armies was the Emperor’s wish — I was only carrying out orders. Where would there be any ‘larger plan’ of which you speak? You have gone to the trouble of hosting this banquet for me today — was it all just to verify this one thing?”

Sun Yong smiled. “Your servant has always followed the Commissioner’s lead. Where the Commissioner points, Old Sun does not go the other way. Only — for something this significant, to have been kept from your servant feels rather cold. Your servant’s heart has always been with the Commissioner and always wishes to render merit, to bring glory to the family name.”

Li Chenjian gave a soft sound. “So what the Prefect is saying is that this post has gone on too long and you are ready for a promotion — I have not misunderstood you?”

Sun Yong bared his teeth in a grin. “Now that the Commissioner has risen high to the blue sky, your dog and chicken would of course like to rise up a little too.”

He understood clearly. He was silent a moment, then asked, “And this matter — have you mentioned it to anyone else?”

Sun Yong said he had not. “This year the provisional governors have been rotated through several times — each one staying two or three months before being transferred away. Even if I had something to say, I wouldn’t waste it on those freshly-minted officials. What would they understand?”

“Good. Since it is a private matter between the two of us, it is best not to let it spread further.” Li Chenjian said with easy equanimity as he stood, fastening the neck cord of his traveling cape. “I have heard everything the Prefect wishes to say. Rest assured — I never treat those around me poorly, and least of all someone like the Prefect, who has served so long.”

Sun Yong nodded enthusiastically. “Commissioner may rest easy — all military matters from here on can be left to your servant to handle. I will get them done cleanly and properly.”

Li Chenjian said very well, and gave him a light pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. “The hour is late. The Prefect should go home — the path is long in the dark. Watch your step.” And with that he swept out of the private room entirely.

Outside Guo Family Garden, the carriage was waiting by the roadside. He climbed in, pushed back the curtain, and glanced at Fang Gan. Almost without a word needing to be exchanged, Fang Gan understood. His expression turned serious and composed, and he stepped to the side of the road, watching the carriage go.

The following morning, returning from roll call at the drill grounds, Li Chenjian sat in the hall slowly drinking a cup of ophiopogon and tangerine rind tea. He had just lifted the cup when a military courier came in to report that, the previous night, Prefect Sun had become drunk after the banquet and fallen from his horse, dying at the base of the south city wall.

He heard this and gave a pensive sound of acknowledgment. “Prefect Sun was a veteran of the garrison for many years. Have a generous mourning gift sent in my name. And go ask after the state of his household — if they are in difficulty, find ways to provide some extra care for his wife and children. We would not want it said that the man is no sooner gone than he is forgotten.”

The courier acknowledged the order and left to see to it. Bi Xie came in with a box in his arms, passing the courier in the doorway.

“My Lord,” Bi Xie said, approaching and lifting the lid of the box to show him the contents. “The finest mother-of-pearl shell, each piece already polished and ready. Just look at this iridescent quality — set into an object, it would be magnificent. The Madam is certain to be pleased when she sees it.”

Li Chenjian picked up one piece, held it to the light, and examined it carefully for some time before giving a sound of approval and setting it back in the box.

He rose and walked to the doorway, stretching his limbs, then drew a long breath toward the clear blue sky overhead. He narrowed his eyes in a smile. “I have been away from home for quite a few days now. It is time to go back.”