Cheng County had a peculiar geography: mountains to the south, a lake to the north. The lake was called Longshen Lake — vast in area, its expanse too wide to take in at a glance, more resembling a sea. On overcast days, the water was grey-green; on clear days, a vivid blue. Looking out from the shore, small fish swam about like drifting gemstones, and the green stones at the bottom were sharply visible — until the water deepened, at which point nothing could be seen at all.

Directly north of Longshen Lake lay a continuous range of mountains, their vegetation extraordinarily lush, known as Cheng Mountain. Halfway up the mountain stood a grand and imposing Longshen Temple, said to have been built a thousand years ago by a wandering Taoist monk who, passing through, witnessed the Longshen manifest on the lake and erected the temple in devotion. Both Cheng Mountain and Cheng County took their name from this event, the name carrying the meaning of “devout reverence.”

Cheng County was a lower-tier county, on par with Nanpu County. It had twelve residential wards in total. The three wards at the center of the county were named after the three mythical islands of “Fangzhang,” “Penglai,” and “Yingzhou.” These three wards divided the county into northern and southern halves. The remaining nine wards were named after the “Nine Marshes”: “Leize Ward,” “Dalu Ward,” and “Pengli Ward” lay to the north; “Mengzhu Ward,” “Daye Ward,” “Zhenze Ward,” “Yingze Ward,” “Yunmeng Ward,” and “Heze Ward” lay to the south.

Local residents, for ease of reference, collectively called the three central wards the Three Islands District, the three northern wards the North Three Wards, and the nine southern wards the South Nine Wards. The Three Islands District had one main road to the north — Four Seas Road — and one to the south — Five Lakes Road — these were also Cheng County’s two busiest streets, both running straight from the east to the west gate.

There were also city gates to the north and south. The northern gate, facing the lake, was called Dragon Gate; the southern gate, backing the mountain, was called Cheng Gate. Dragon Gate was the more unusual of the two — it opened only once a year for the Longshen Festival, allowing all county residents to proceed to the shores of Longshen Lake to witness the Longshen’s divine manifestation. Cheng Gate led directly to the Longshen Temple on Cheng Mountain. On the first and fifteenth of every month, county residents would make the climb to pay their respects at the temple.

“The Longshen Temple’s status in Cheng County is unparalleled. Every month, on the first day, county residents are required to make offerings at the temple. Those who fail to comply will reportedly suffer divine retribution from the Longshen within three days.” Jin Ruo explained, pointing at the freshly drawn map of Cheng County’s wards. “It is also said that a ritual platform has been erected along the shores of Longshen Lake, and on the day of the Longshen Festival, the Longshen’s true form can be seen manifesting at this platform.”

Hua Yitang rested his chin on his fan. “When is the Longshen Festival?”

Jin Ruo: “The specific date each year is not fixed — it is announced by the head of the Longshen Temple, and falls roughly in mid-to-late April. This year’s exact date has not yet been announced.”

Hua Yitang smiled. “Now that is interesting.”

Indeed it was interesting. Most festival and ceremony dates were fixed. They had never encountered a ceremony whose date could be flexibly adjusted. Lin Sui’an thought.

“Come on, get everything moved in—” Mu Xia stood at the entrance directing. “Put those medicine cabinets in the front courtyard, and those wardrobes in the back. Yita, take them inside.”

“Careful, careful — don’t get bumped or knocked.” Yita, speaking in his rolled-tongue Tang dialect, led three to five laborers inside, carrying medicine cabinets, wardrobes, wooden cases, bed frames, and more. Outside, two ox-carts waited to be unloaded. Mu Xia held a scroll list, frowning as she made marks, shaking her head as she went.

Lin Sui’an felt rather guilty about this and stood to help, but was stopped by Hua Yitang.

“If you take work away from Mu Xia and Yita, they’ll get upset. And if Yita gets upset, we’ll have no tea to drink.”

Jin Ruo: “Wouldn’t that actually be ideal?”

Hua Yitang said helplessly, “If Doctor Fang can’t have his tea, he’ll get upset too, and if Doctor Fang gets upset, can this medical hall of ours even open its doors?”

Jin Ruo: “…”

“More importantly, if Mu Xia gets upset, we won’t have any meals.”

Jin Ruo: “That’s a valid point!”

Lin Sui’an quietly sat back down.

Eating was the paramount concern — absolutely not to be trifled with.

Hua Yitang gestured for Jin Ruo to continue.

Jin Ruo: “Cheng County is in a remote location with only one country road connecting it to the outside world. It’s fairly isolated, and the residents are mostly self-sufficient. There’s no organized market district to speak of — Penglai Ward is the largest commercial area, and almost all the shops, market stalls, and sundry goods stores are concentrated there. I walked through several of them, and this property has the best location by far, with a spacious courtyard. Of course, the rent is also the steepest — one string of cash a month. Hey, Hua — you owe me double for this. I walked the whole county today, my legs nearly fell off. Surely there ought to be some compensation for the effort!”

Hua Yitang fished out a sliver of gold leaf and tossed it to Jin Ruo. Jin Ruo tucked it away cheerfully and continued: “There’s also one very odd thing. I walked through the entire county and only saw one medical hall — doors and windows tightly shut, not a soul in sight. Is it possible that the people of Cheng County never fall ill and never seek treatment?”

Hua Yitang tapped his fan against his forehead. “Doctor Fang went to the county office to sort out the medical hall registration paperwork — why hasn’t he been back for this long?”

Lin Sui’an: “Got lost?”

Jin Ruo: “It’s so close — surely not.”

The residence Jin Ruo had rented was on the main street of Penglai Ward. Step out the ward gate, cross Four Seas Road, and you arrived at the county office in Dalu Ward. By Doctor Fang’s walking pace, a round trip should take half an hour at most — but he had been gone nearly a full hour and there was no sign of him.

Lin Sui’an poked her head out to look. Fine rain had begun to fall again outside, and the carters rushed to spread out rain covers while the laborers quickened their pace. Pedestrians on the street hurried along. The sky pressed down so darkly it felt as though it might touch the rooftops.

“I’ll go and meet Doctor Fang.” Jin Ruo rummaged through the pile of goods and pulled out an oil-paper umbrella, then dashed out the front door at a trot.

Hua Yitang walked to the doorway, looked out for a moment, then opened another oil-paper umbrella and smiled at Lin Sui’an. “Since we’re idle anyway — shall we go out and take a look around?”

This was just what Lin Sui’an had in mind. With Mu Xia and Yita so frantically busy that their heels were knocking against the backs of their heads, sitting here idle was genuinely uncomfortable — it would be nice to have a wander outside. But she rummaged for a long while and couldn’t find a third umbrella.

“The rain is light — one umbrella is enough.” Hua Yitang’s eyes shone brightly as he looked over. “Let’s walk together.”

Lin Sui’an figured he had a point — there was no need to make a fuss over this light drizzle. She ducked in under Hua Yitang’s umbrella, and they stepped out the front door. Two steps later, she felt that something was off — this umbrella is tiny!

She and Hua Yitang were practically shoulder to shoulder, and half of her was still exposed to the rain. Hua Yitang had it even worse — half of him was soaked. Lin Sui’an turned and was about to head back inside, when Hua Yitang suddenly caught hold of her sleeve.

Lin Sui’an blinked. Hua Yitang let go of his usual expression, and holding her by the cuff of her sleeve, gently drew her back under the umbrella, bit by bit, then continued slowly walking forward.

Lin Sui’an understood: this person had something weighing on his mind.

Fine. Given the comradeship they’d forged going through life and death together, she supposed she could keep him company for a while.

The residence they had rented sat between two shops — a sundry goods store on the left, a tea stall on the right. Likely because of the rain, both shops had few customers. The tea stall’s proprietor sat behind the counter, idly flicking an abacus. On the tea board behind the counter, only two types of tea were listed: Guangdu Spring Tea (Premium, Mid-grade, Standard) and Hundred Flower Tea (Premium, Mid-grade, Standard). Beside the Standard Hundred Flower Tea hung a red-characters-on-black-wood sign reading “Sold Out.”

Hua Yitang noticed where Lin Sui’an’s gaze had gone and paused his steps briefly. Lin Sui’an quickly shook her head. “Not having tea — just taking a look.”

Hua Yitang lowered his eyes and continued forward.

Past the tea stall were several more shops: a butcher, a fabric goods shop, an ironware shop, and a medicine shop. The medicine shop’s doors were boarded over, and dust had accumulated thickly on its signboard — evidently it had closed down long ago. They turned a corner and arrived at the end of the street. The ward gate stood there solidly. The pounded-earth ward wall was crooked and uneven, overgrown with weeds, with several gaps missing in the middle, like the mouth of a gap-toothed old woman.

They stepped through the ward gate and continued down Four Seas Road. Hua Yitang walked with great steadiness, his waist held straight and upright — entirely at odds with his usual swaying, languid gait.

Along the entire way, he said nothing. Lin Sui’an had no choice but to match his silence.

The shadow of the umbrella ribs divided the space beneath the umbrella from the world outside — on the outside, a grey and dim sky and quiet streets; on the inside, only her and Hua Yitang.

The raindrops struck the amber oil-paper umbrella above — pit pat, pit pat — a pleasant sound.

Listening to the rain, Lin Sui’an grew unexpectedly dreamlike. She thought back to the first time she had seen Hua Yitang — how he had looked then. He seemed to have grown taller again; without his wide robes to obscure him, his shoulders looked broader. The hand holding the umbrella shaft was still as white and fine as jade, but the knuckles were now more sharply defined than ever. Walking this close to him, even through the layers of clothing, she could feel the warmth quietly emanating from his body.

“Cheng County has over nine hundred households,” Hua Yitang suddenly spoke, startling Lin Sui’an out of her reverie. He gazed into the distance, his eyes far-off, looking through layer upon layer of rain curtain toward the darkened Cheng Mountain. “Twelve ward districts, but only one ward with a commercial district. The number of shops and stalls falls fifty percent below that of an equivalent lower-tier county.” His brow furrowed subtly. “This doesn’t add up.”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “Nanpu County is also a lower-tier county. When I passed through Nanpu County’s East Market, the scale was much larger.”

Hua Yitang gave a slight nod, then fell silent again. From Lin Sui’an’s angle, she could see that a faint shadow of pale stubble had appeared along his clean jaw line.

Lin Sui’an felt somewhat uncomfortable, shifted quietly half a step away, and Hua Yitang looked over at her in mild surprise, then moved his umbrella half a step closer. Lin Sui’an shifted another half step; Hua Yitang moved half a step closer again. Lin Sui’an shifted again; Hua Yitang abruptly grabbed her wrist. “Stop moving — you’ll get rained on.”

Lin Sui’an said: “The umbrella is too small — it’s cramped.”

Hua Yitang froze for a moment, then suddenly moved a full large step away, extending his arm to hold the umbrella far out over Lin Sui’an’s head. The fine mist of rain fell on the burning red of his ear, curling up into steam.

Now it was Lin Sui’an’s turn to be surprised.

Could it be that this person had been entirely unaware of the issue all along?

“Master—” Jin Ruo came running from a distance. “The clerk at the county office said opening a medical hall is a major matter and the Cheng County chief secretary wants to come and inspect in person — he’s already gone with Doctor Fang to Penglai Ward — what are you two doing?”

Hua Yitang shoved the umbrella into Lin Sui’an’s hand, then ducked under Jin Ruo’s umbrella. Jin Ruo looked supremely put-upon. “I want to share an umbrella with Master.”

Hua Yitang: “Dream on.”

With that, he grabbed Jin Ruo and strode back the way they had come, his two long legs moving at a brisk clip, splashing mud up the sides of his outfit.

Lin Sui’an stood holding the umbrella, dazed. The handle still held the warmth of Hua Yitang’s grip — warm and flushed, spreading into her palm. She quickly switched the umbrella to her other hand, then rubbed the first hand against her lapel. That felt better.

The overly self-important young teenager from their first meeting on the banks of the Jiuchu River — he had grown up.

Skit:

A quarter of an hour earlier.

In the room, Yita discovered five brand new oil-paper umbrellas tucked inside a newly purchased wardrobe. He stared at the rainy sky outside, then scratched his head in inexplicable bewilderment.

“So many umbrellas — why are they — in here?”

Outside the main gate, Mu Xia watched the backs of the two figures walking away under a single umbrella, moved with deep, heartfelt approval, on the verge of tears.

Fourth Young Master — keep at it!