“That is my elder brother, Xiang Xu — his courtesy name is Hexu. Baba, come meet Elder Brother.” Mei Fen gave Yun Pan a gentle nudge forward.

There is a line in the Book of Changes: “The great man — his virtue accords with heaven and earth, his brilliance accords with the sun and moon, his order accords with the four seasons.” No doubt his name was drawn from these words.

Yun Pan stepped forward and bowed to him respectfully. “Baba pays her respects to Elder Brother.”

Xiang Xu had heard upon returning home that the household had a guest — his late aunt’s daughter. He knew the name Baba, but since he had been occupied with his studies every day after coming of age without a single day’s absence, and as boys rarely accompanied their mothers on family visits, he had not even been able to attend the funeral when his aunt passed away and had never met this cousin. Today counted as their very first acquaintance. He studied her carefully — as she walked up to him and lowered her head in greeting, there was something in that single bowed moment like the sun breaking through clouds. He had always assumed she was still small — a child of no more than twelve or thirteen in his imagination — yet the person standing before him was already a grown young woman.

Xiang Xu gave an abashed smile. Like Mei Fen, he had a shallow dimple when he smiled, and something a little childlike about his expression — different from the men of this age, for there was always a quality of youthful sincerity between his brows and eyes.

He said: “So you are Baba — I hadn’t realized you’d grown so big.” He was nineteen years old, not yet having come of age, and his constant time at the Imperial Academy of Learning had given him a somewhat old-fashioned, overly serious air at times.

Whether a person is easy to get along with is usually apparent from a single sentence. Yun Pan folded her hands and said with easy composure: “I am called Baba — if I were any smaller, I would have to be three or four years old.”

Xiang Xu was startled, and then, as if waking from a dream, his face flushed. “I truly was muddled — since I was small I’ve heard Mother going on about Baba this and Baba that, and only ever remembered you as little. I’ve been carrying that image around for more than ten years.”

Mei Fen also teased him: “Elder Brother has always been muddled, hasn’t he?”

Xiang Xu was not the least bit annoyed. He was a person of extremely good temperament, and before his younger sister he never put on the airs of an older brother. He only made a self-deprecating curl of his lips, then raised his hand in a gesture: “Father and Mother are already waiting. Both younger sisters, please go ahead.” And he followed behind as Mei Fen and Yun Pan walked in front.

The household rules of Duke Shuguo’s residence were truly strict. The head of the household had made no special effort to elevate the concubines, and they never dared to show themselves. Even for the arrival of such a small honored guest as this, only the two legitimate children attended — though as legitimate children, the son and daughter born of the concubines were also officially under the principal wife’s name, making them proper members of the household.

“Baba, come here.” Madam Ming beckoned with a warm smile and led Yun Pan to pay respects to Duke Shuguo. “Come greet your uncle.”

Duke Shuguo was roughly the same age as Jiang Heng, bearded, and having been born a military man, carried a natural air of authority that required no display of anger. Yun Pan stepped forward to bow and wished her uncle good health. Duke Shuguo’s brow relaxed into a smile. “We are family — no need for such formality.” Only then did Yun Pan notice that Xiang Xu really did resemble him greatly.

Her aunt then introduced the second young master and the second young mistress. The second young master, Xiang Yan, appeared to be about eleven or twelve years old — young in years, yet composed and measured in his conduct. The second young mistress had a pair of slightly upturned phoenix eyes that gave her a tender and expressive look. Her name was perfectly straightforward: Lan Fen. One could see that Duke Shuguo had not given much thought to naming his daughters — if two more were added, they would very likely be called Zhu Fen and Ju Fen.

Once the introductions were complete, they could sit down to dine. The meal prepared to welcome the guest was most refined — Apricot Cream Steamed Lamb, Preserved Fish, White Braised Pork, Eight-Treasure Duck, and many more dishes, spread out across the table. Madam Ming also instructed the servants to place water-smooth glutinous rice cakes and honeyed lotus root in front of the young women, and said with a smile: “Baba has loved sweet foods since she was small. These are the work of Banlou — do taste them. If you enjoy them, next time you want some, just call for one of the restaurant’s errand men, and they’ll send them to the residence.”

The food establishments of the capital were more resourceful than those of Youzhou. The restaurants kept a type of person called an “errand man” who specialized in delivering meals to various households. Even the Emperor, when he tired of the palace kitchen’s imperial dishes, sometimes craved street food — Li’s Old Woman’s mixed vegetable broth, or pig pancreas flatbreads — and as long as someone placed an order, those errand men would weave through the streets and alleys and deliver right to the palace gate.

Yun Pan tasted the glutinous rice cake — sweet enough to make one happy. Across the table, Xiang Xu watched her eat with a smiling expression that carried a quiet and contented ease.

Madam Ming also brought up the matter of the marquis’s residence, saying only: “Your uncle and I have decided — for now, we hold back and watch to see what game they will play next. If they truly cannot tolerate you and will not have you there, you will live peacefully here with us, and your affairs going forward will be managed by your uncle and me.”

Yun Pan heard this and set down her chopsticks, looking down as she said: “I only fear I am causing my uncle and aunt trouble. At any other time, visiting my aunt would be a happy occasion — but now it feels like taking refuge…”

Xiang Xu had heard about the marquis’s incident upon returning home and felt deeply indignant on Yun Pan’s behalf. Without waiting for Madam Ming to speak, he interjected with a measure of chivalrous spirit: “Don’t be afraid. If Marquis Jiang refuses to let the matter rest, we have our answer ready for him.”

Duke Shuguo and Madam Ming laughed at that. “What answer do you have ready, spending all your days with books?”

Xiang Xu, a little embarrassed to be teased by his parents, said sheepishly: “I’m not going to argue with him — I can at least speak to him about the principles of fatherly love and filial conduct.”

So men of learning resort to reasoning — but when faced with something as thoroughly senseless as this, what principles could be invoked?

Bringing up Jiang Heng and that creature at the table was bound to ruin anyone’s appetite, so Duke Shuguo turned the conversation and asked about the disaster in Youzhou. Yun Pan said: “I happened to be attending the Fanhua Banquet at the time — during the earthquake, I was outside the city. It was sudden, as if the sky had darkened in an instant, and everyone was terrified. After the earthquake, when I entered the city, the residential wards and courtyards had been badly damaged, a good many people had been crushed to death, and their bodies lay along the roadsides — a most harrowing sight.”

Everyone’s expressions grew grave. Madam Ming said: “Amitabha Buddha — such a calamity as this has not been seen for many years. Those poor commoners.”

Duke Shuguo let out a sigh. “The court is doing all it can to provide relief — there is talk of first building a Solitary Garden to shelter those refugees who have lost their homes.” Then he asked Yun Pan: “How did you make your way to the capital? Did you see checkpoints set up at the city gates when you left?”

Yun Pan said: “Soldiers were questioning everyone passing through the gates. We were at a loss about where to hire a carriage, and just then happened to encounter the prefect overseeing the relief. We gave our names and asked the prefect to do us the favor of sending someone to escort us — and by some fortunate chance, that prefect agreed.”

Duke Shuguo nodded. “The court dispatched several Relief Commissioners. Which prefect did you encounter?”

Yun Pan thought back — the rain-filled sky before her eyes was still vivid, and the man seated in the carriage had never shown his true face. “The captain who arranged our carriage and horses said it was the Youzhou prefect.”

At those words, Mei Fen’s expression changed to one of unease — though Yun Pan could not fathom why.

Yun Pan hesitated, wondering if she had said something wrong. But it was Madam Ming who laughed instead. “So it was him. I was so preoccupied with blaming Jiang Heng that I forgot to ask about any of that — I never imagined it would be him who helped Baba.” She glanced over at Mei Fen with purpose and told Yun Pan: “Your elder sister was betrothed two years ago — and the young man in question is precisely the Duke of Weiguo. Truly, as they say — the floodwaters swept into the Dragon King’s own temple. No wonder he asked no questions and agreed straight away to send you to the capital.”

Only then did Yun Pan understand — of course there were no favors without reason. The Duke of Weiguo had a marriage tie with Duke Shuguo’s household, so naturally he would not make it difficult. All in all, she had been fortunate today — to have happened upon a Duke. Had it been only a minor official on an errand, he might well have sent her straight back to the marquis’s residence without a word.

But Mei Fen looked rather put out, and with a somewhat awkward expression she muttered: “Mother, please don’t bring that up.” She helped Yun Pan to some food. “Baba, try this.”

Mei Fen’s moods were something Madam Ming had long grown accustomed to. At the mention of the man she was to marry, there was not even a trace of shyness from her — instead she behaved as though she had encountered a sworn enemy. So Madam Ming gave Yun Pan a meaningful look and said: “Your sister is an odd one — once you two are spending time together, do what you can to counsel her.” Then, as if she had just remembered something: “I recall that your A’Niang, while she was still with us, arranged a betrothal for you with the second son of Dongchang Commandery Duke’s household. Has a date been set? When does his family intend to fetch you?”

Xiang Xu, who had been looking down all this while, also raised his eyes toward her at that.

The subject made Yun Pan thoroughly embarrassed. She hedged and said: “The engagement has already been broken off… That Li second son — he and the eldest granddaughter of the Grand Academician of the Zizhengtian Hall are in love with each other…”

So the table flared up in indignation once again. Madam Ming had seen right through the scheme. She said with exasperation: “No wonder that creature grew impatient — had this not happened, she would have gritted her teeth and kept up the pretense until you were married off.”

A whole ground scattered with feathers — better not to dwell on it. Duke Shuguo set down his chopsticks. “Enough — why rake over all this trivial business?” He picked up his wine cup and held it out toward Xiang Xu. “Xu’er, drink a cup with Father.”

Xiang Xu quickly lifted his cup and clinked it lightly against his father’s. He was apparently not a man for drinking — a single cup of Jade Floating Liang wine, and he drank it as though swallowing bitterest grief.

After the meal, Mei Fen and Yun Pan withdrew from the flower hall. The lanterns hanging at the eaves swayed gently in the breeze, and overhead the new moon curved in a slender crescent. The night spread with the cool fragrance of grass and trees.

Mei Fen said: “Tomorrow I’m making incense — will you come too, Sister?”

In these days of peaceful plenty, the leisurely amusement of young women in the inner chambers often took this form — “sitting at ease burning the incense seal, pine and cypress fragrance filling the room,” a refined pursuit envied by poets and scholars alike.

Yun Pan said yes. “Tomorrow I’ll come and be your helper, A’Jie.”

Mei Fen gave a dimpled smile, tilting her head to ask: “What incense can you make, Sister?”

“When A’Niang was still with us, she taught me several recipes for seasonal incense — the Han and Wei Duke’s Rich Plum Blossom Incense, the Broad Cold Incense — I’ve made both of them.”

She kept her expression perfectly neutral, but the message was plain enough — “Han and Wei Duke” contained “Wei” and “Plum,” and everything she meant to say was tucked inside.

Mei Fen caught it and said with a pout: “You’re laughing at me too!”

For a young woman of marriageable age, being betrothed was only natural. Mei Fen was seventeen now — by those standards she ought to be feeling some urgency, for in the capital, girls who had not yet left their family home by eighteen were already considered to be trailing behind, going a little stale in other people’s eyes.

Yun Pan truly had no other meaning in mind, and said with a laugh: “I wasn’t thinking about any of that — A’Jie is reading too much into it.” She paused and then brought the topic back: “This time, that I was able to make it to the capital safely — I do owe thanks to the Duke of Weiguo. I didn’t know the household was connected to him by marriage; it was only when I heard Aunt mention it just now that I understood he had acted out of consideration for A’Jie.”

Mei Fen’s expression remained displeased as ever. Looking downward, she said: “What consideration do I deserve? This engagement was none of my doing — it was entirely Father’s and Mother’s idea. That household is not like ours — ours earned its title by meritorious service, and our family name is different from the imperial line. Their family name is Li, and they are of the same clan as the Emperor himself. A household of such towering status, with so many rules and such heavy propriety — someone like me, going in, would not last three years.”

The officialdom was forever rife with jostling for advantage, and even in an age of peace, undercurrents ran strong beneath the surface. Mei Fen often seemed quiet and unremarkable, but in truth she understood everything. And so she had been begging her mother to keep putting off the wedding date — it was truly because she knew that with her own temperament and nature, she would not survive in that household.

She even envied Yun Pan. “To be like you — wouldn’t that be fine? The engagement is broken off, and you are free in body and spirit.”

Yun Pan laughed despite herself. “A broken engagement is a mark against one’s reputation — people may not say it aloud, but they will mock you in secret.”

True enough — each had her own difficulties. As children one could lean on one’s parents, but once a little older, one had to press forward into whatever lay ahead.

Mei Fen gave a soft sigh. “Never mind — I won’t think about that anymore. Rest well tonight, Sister, and tomorrow morning I’ll burn incense and brew tea and receive you with all due ceremony.”

She was never willing to go out, and that small courtyard of hers was the only world where she felt safe and unbound.

Mei Fen could not walk the night paths after dark — she was afraid even within the garden. Yun Pan walked her back to Zilanyard and watched her go inside before turning back to A Handful of Snow on her own. One full day and night of upheaval and change — from being adrift with nowhere to go to finally settling to rest — and now, looking back on it, she hardly knew how she had gotten through it.