“Auntie Zhu is absolutely right!” Lin Sui’an said. “Fate is a wondrous and mysterious thing — if one lets the right moment slip away, it is a lifelong regret. Registrar Zhu should do his utmost to seize the opportunity.”

Zhu’s mother: “Well said, Sister Fang!”

Registrar Zhu, with a miserable expression: “Our Zhu family has some standing in its own right — why must we go and paste a warm face against someone’s cold backside?”

Zhu’s mother was furious: “Do you think the family elders want this? Our Zhu family’s properties and holdings don’t even begin to compare with the Qiu family’s — and were it not for the Qiu family head showing some consideration, given that our two families were once connected by marriage, and extending a little care and protection, do you think the Zhu family would still be able to remain in Cheng County?!”

Lin Sui’an’s ears pricked up: so the Zhu and Qiu families had this kind of tangled, intricate private history — truly, an outsider would have a very difficult time uncovering these hidden threads.

From what Zhu’s mother had said, the Zhu family also had their own business dealings — but Cheng County was already so impoverished, what kind of industry could possibly be developed here?

There was definitely something suspicious going on here.

Lin Sui’an smiled warmly and ladled a cup of tea for Zhu’s mother. “Auntie Zhu was saying just now that Xiande Manor is very profitable — is that true?”

“How could there be any doubt? The manor master of Xiande Manor — hah, that is, the head of the Qiu family — everything he wears and uses is shipped in from the eastern capital, only the finest goods. The way he lives is almost on par with the Hua family of Yangdu!”

Registrar Zhu nearly choked: “Mother — you cannot just say things like that!”

“He’s quite the grand figure — it seems Mu Tang made the right choice,” Lin Sui’an said with a smile.

Zhu’s mother: “Young Master Mu wants to enter Xiande Manor?”

“A neighbor made the introduction — they said Mu Tang is clever and capable, that working there would let him accomplish great things.” Lin Sui’an twisted her fingers into an awkward approximation of a delicate gesture and made the expression of a lovesick maiden. “He said he would make sure I lived comfortably in the future.”

Li Nili’s expression oscillated wildly between the urge to burst out laughing and outright horror, and in the end, unable to endure it any longer, he fled.

Zhu Dachang understood the implication beneath Lin Sui’an’s words and went pale.

He had not expected them to trace things back to Xiande Manor this quickly.

Zhu Dachang had been serving as county deputy in Cheng County for four months. He had, to be frank, thought about investigating the Longshen Temple and Xiande Manor — but he had never found an opportunity, and moreover, he constantly felt a strange, unsettling sense of wrongness. It was as though some force working in the shadows was always obstructing him.

The longer he spent in Cheng County, the more Zhu Dachang had come to sense — dimly, uneasily — that this obstructing force came from within his own family: the Zhu clan.

Today’s blind date arrangement aside, the several times he had probed the family elders with indirect questions about Xiande Manor, they had either urged him to leave well enough alone, or warned him not to offend the Dragon God — as though they feared something, or as though they were concealing something.

And so when Lin Sui’an and Fourth Young Master of the Hua family had spoken of investigating the Longshen Temple, he had wavered, retreated — a voice inside him saying that if he let these two proceed, they might unearth an answer he was not ready to face.

Zhu’s mother kept nodding. “Young Master Mu is a man of great ambitions.”

“Only — I am a little worried —” Lin Sui’an put on an expression of a beauty nursing a quiet sorrow. “We are new to Cheng County, and I don’t really know what kind of business Xiande Manor is in, or whether Mu Tang will be kept on after he goes. If he isn’t, my brother will only go back to calling him a good-for-nothing freeloader every day.”

Zhu Dachang was growing anxious. He said hastily: “Lin Niangzi, the road is slippery in the rain — let me escort you back to the clinic.”

Zhu’s mother glanced at Zhu Dachang, paused, and smiled. “Oh dear, listen to me — getting old and talking too much. Sister Fang must be tired from sitting. Go home early, so your brother doesn’t worry.”

Lin Sui’an clicked her tongue inwardly: she had been too direct — asking so bluntly had raised their suspicions. She needed to take a more roundabout approach.

Lin Sui’an lowered her eyes, sat up in proper posture, and said: “Auntie Zhu — I lost my mother when I was very young. My brother raised me by himself after our parents both fell ill and died when he was just ten years old. We depended on the charity of others and endured much humiliation. Fortunately we met a kind old physician who taught my brother his medical craft. After the old physician passed, my brother took me away, and we left our hometown and made our way to the eastern capital. Over several years of hard work, my brother built up something of a reputation — but his heart was too soft, always giving out medicine for free or treating patients without charge, so he never saved much money. Still, outsiders saw the constant stream of patients at his clinic and assumed we were well-off.”

Lin Sui’an stole a glance at Zhu’s mother’s expression. Zhu’s mother was listening with reddening eyes, deeply absorbed. Lin Sui’an pressed on while the iron was hot: “It was around that time that I met Mu Tang. He was so attentive toward me. I was young and unworldly, and it was the first time anyone had ever been so good to me, and before I knew it, I —”

Lin Sui’an feigned bashfulness, ducked her face behind her sleeve, and silently gagged twice: save me, this is unbearably saccharine.

Zhu’s mother leaned forward. “And then?”

“And then — ah —” Lin Sui’an adjusted her expression. “My brother has a forthright nature, and accidentally offended someone with power and influence, and had no choice but to leave the eastern capital. Fortunately Registrar Zhu took us in, so we were able to find a foothold in Cheng County. Mu Tang refused to abandon me and stayed by my side, and I was so moved that before I knew it —”

Lin Sui’an ducked behind her sleeve again: good heavens, she truly was about to be sick.

Zhu’s mother still wanted more. “And then?”

“But then Mu Tang suddenly said he wanted to find work at Xiande Manor, and I grew truly uneasy — could it be that now that my brother’s clinic is no longer as busy as it once was, he wants to leave me behind?”

Zhu’s mother considered this, then shook her head. “The day Young Master Mu was being chased by your brother, the whole neighborhood watched. Young Master Mu’s feelings for you were plain for everyone to see — he doesn’t seem like the kind of heartless man who would abandon you.”

Lin Sui’an said with a mournful air: “But as the saying goes — if a man’s word could be trusted, pigs could climb trees.”

Zhu’s mother nodded emphatically. “Words of rustic wisdom but true to the core. Men — the moment they have money, their hearts change.”

“But I cannot very well stop Mu Tang from going to Xiande Manor on such a vague suspicion.”

Zhu’s mother nodded again. “That’s also true.”

“So I thought it over for several days, and came to a conclusion.”

“Oh?”

Lin Sui’an gave a faint smile. “If he abandons me — then I’ll tell him to get out of my life! Afterward, the sky is wide and the sea is vast — I’ll go wherever I please and do whatever I wish. Why should I let a single man tie my hands and feet?”

Zhu’s mother stared for a long moment, then burst into hearty laughter. “Ha ha ha ha! Sister Fang, that spirit of yours is entirely after my own heart — the very image of me in my younger days!”

Lin Sui’an was rather startled.

“My two worthless former husbands were no good men — I sent both packing, left my hometown behind, and came to Cheng County to make my own way. I worked hard and planted my feet firmly, and thought I’d live out my days without remarrying — but then I happened to meet this fifth son’s father. His father left the world early, but he treated me truly well — it’s only this ungrateful son here who drives me to despair.” Zhu’s mother sighed. “In truth, if our family’s situation weren’t what it was, I wouldn’t push fifth son into marriage either — he’s the only one among the Zhu children who can take charge of things. I thought sending him out to gain experience for a few years might sharpen him up. Who would have thought he came back even more of a coward than he left…”

Lin Sui’an’s eyes went wide: this was quite the revelation!

“Sister Fang has the right idea — in the end, a woman’s footing in this world must be secured by herself.” Zhu’s mother looked at Lin Sui’an with great appreciation. “And what plans do you have, Sister Fang?”

Lin Sui’an said with conviction: “I am going to earn money!”

Zhu’s mother: “How?”

Lin Sui’an straightened up and bowed respectfully to Zhu’s mother with clasped hands: “I ask Auntie Zhu to show me the way!”

Zhu’s mother gave her a thorough look up and down. “Clear eyes, a mind with depth — a fine piece of raw material. All right, come with me.”

Lin Sui’an was a bit taken aback. “Now?”

“No time like the present — let’s go!”

From the county office to Simian Manor was roughly the time it takes for two incense sticks to burn down. For Lin Sui’an, those two incense sticks might as well have lasted forever. Zhu’s mother was a woman who could not sit still — the entire walk, she insisted on striking up an intimate conversation with Lin Sui’an, and was especially curious about every detail of how Fang An and Mu Tang had fallen for each other. Lin Sui’an had no choice but to endure the ordeal stoically, and wove together a patchwork of romantic tales from every age and corner of the world, talking nonsense the whole way through.

Such as: the first time they met, Mu Tang had been bathed in a rosy glow, his eyes like bright stars, a dashing and carefree figure — the two had fallen for each other at first sight. Or: Mu Tang used to slip through the window at night to teach Fang An to read and recite poetry — and under flowers and moonlight, tender feelings had bloomed, gazes exchanged in silence, sweet glances sent back and forth — It was not that Lin Sui’an’s vocabulary was impoverished. She was simply too honest-hearted to keep spinning it out any further.

Fortunately, Simian Manor finally came into view.

Simian Manor was located in Zhenze Quarter. On the surface, it looked like an unremarkable house — its façade roughly the same size as Fang’s clinic, with no placard or sign at the gate, and delicate wild grass growing along the top of the entrance, turned dark green by the rain-soaking.

Through the main gate was the standard Qingzhou-style covered walkway — elevated at the base on wooden posts, with tiles over the top. Lin Sui’an folded her umbrella and followed behind Zhu’s mother. Young women moved to and fro along the walkway at intervals, all with sleeves rolled up and arms bared, each carrying a covered tray with brisk, purposeful strides — the contents beneath the cloths unknown.

When they saw Zhu’s mother, all of them stopped to bow respectfully, addressing her as “Auntie Zhu.” They cast curious glances at Lin Sui’an, but not one of them said a word of inquiry.

“The Zhu family’s business is a bit unusual, so most of the workers are young women,” Zhu’s mother said, walking at a brisk pace. “You and they are about the same age — I’m sure you’ll get along.”

Lin Sui’an nodded along repeatedly, inwardly guessing at the nature of the trade. Soon enough, they passed through the covered walkway and entered a side gate — and the space before her opened up unexpectedly wide. Inside this house was an entirely separate world: a vast hall, roughly the size of two basketball courts, with high foundations, open on all four sides, towering wooden pillars standing throughout the space, the interior partitioned into different work areas by bamboo curtains. Numerous young women moved busily back and forth among them, ranging in age from their teens to over forty, nimble-handed and fast-tongued, the air alive with a constant, cheerful chatter — giving Lin Sui’an the sensation of stepping into an aviary.

Only then could she make out what was going on: Simian Manor dealt in cloth and textiles. The south side was a spinning area, with more than twenty spinning wheels. The west side was a weaving area, with over ten looms. The north side was a cutting area — the snipping of scissors was a continuous refrain. The east side was an embroidery area, with roughly thirty or more needlewomen, five or six grouped in a circle, chatting in low voices while their needles flew.

Zhu’s mother led Lin Sui’an through each of the four work areas in turn. “Sister Fang, can you spin thread?”

Lin Sui’an broke into a cold sweat. “No.”

“Weave cloth?”

“Never attempted it.”

“Draft and cut garments?”

“Never learned…”

Zhu’s mother gave Lin Sui’an a surprised look. “Can you embroider?”

If she said “no” again, she would surely be turned away. Lin Sui’an could only brazen it out. “I have a little knowledge of it.”

Zhu’s mother smiled. “Looking at Sister Fang, so refined in appearance — your needlework is surely not lacking.” She raised her voice: “Everyone, we have a new arrival!”

The needlewomen all snapped their heads up, eyes bright with curiosity, looking Lin Sui’an over.

Lin Sui’an clasped her hands in a bow. “I am Fang An — a newcomer, still learning the ropes. I ask for everyone’s patience and guidance.”

The needlewomen immediately broke into delighted chatter:

“Oh! Isn’t this Sister Fang from Fang’s clinic?”

“Who is it?”

“The sweetheart of the young man who was being chased down the street a couple of days ago!”

“Oh, oh, right — so it’s her.”

“She really does look spirited.”

“Young Master Mu has good taste.”

“Quick, quick, come sit with us.”

Four or five needlewomen surged forward at once, pulling and steering Lin Sui’an into their midst. Enthusiastically, they pressed into her hands a flower hoop, cotton cloth, and needle and thread, and all began talking at once:

“I specialize in peonies.”

“I love plum blossoms.”

“Emerald bamboo is my favorite.”

“My hundred-color chrysanthemums are the most beautiful.”

“Sister Fang, what pattern do you specialize in? Quick, show us!”

Lin Sui’an stiffly clutched the needle and forced a hollow laugh. “Embroidering… a ball…”

The needlewomen: “Eh?”

Lin Sui’an felt the sweat soaking through her back: Well and truly done for!

At the same moment, Hua Yitang stood on the training ground of Xiande Manor, disheveled and grimy — sweat and dust caked together in his hair until it had curled on its own.

Hua Yitang stared fixedly at the man beside him: Old Qiu.

Old Qiu was a man past fifty, reportedly the next-door neighbor’s wife’s father’s brother’s second wife’s nephew’s son’s own nephew — of Xiao Yu’s maternal aunt’s husband’s kinsman — which somehow translated into a supervisor of some standing within Xiande Manor, and the person who had introduced Hua Yitang into the manor.

At this moment, Old Qiu was berating Hua Yitang in the voice of a man sorely disappointed by someone he had hoped much of: “Look at you — you’re tall and well-built, so how are you this unfit? We’ve barely done a few laps and you’re already in this state — how do you expect to carry out Xiande Manor’s missions in the future?”

Hua Yitang’s eyes rolled furiously. He wanted to spit out a mouthful of curses, but at this moment, he didn’t even have the energy left for insults.

Hua Yitang had arrived at the Hour of the Dragon. Old Qiu had announced that he must pass a test before being admitted to the manor, and had tricked him into chopping two hundred and fifty logs of firewood, hauling four enormous vats of water, eaten barely half a full lunch, and then said he needed to test his stamina by dragging an enormous, rotting wooden post around for a full hour — was this a test for a person? It was a test for a donkey!

Old Qiu: “You ate two whole pots of coarse rice at midday — where did it all go?”

Hua Yitang thought: Two whole pots? Those pots were smaller than the tea kettle Yita uses for brewing — calling them pots was generous at best. They were really just bowls.

“Forget it, I said from the start this young man was no good — who insisted on putting him through all this, wasting my time!”

Hua Yitang clenched his teeth. “Whatever other tests remain — bring them on.”

A spark of interest lit in Old Qiu’s eyes. “Now that’s a bit of spirit! Qiu Old Eight — you’ve come just in time! Try this young man out!”

A man passing nearby leaped up onto the training ground. He stood nine feet tall, with shoulders wide as a bear, dark skin, and a crooked, spiked cudgel propped on his shoulder. He grinned — a mouthful of decayed teeth. “Old Qiu, this young man looks so smooth-skinned and tender — if I accidentally kill him, don’t blame me.”

Old Qiu: “That’s his own fate. Can’t blame anyone else.”

“Right then!” Qiu Old Eight let out a roar, swung his cudgel up with a thunderous boom, and brought it crashing straight toward Hua Yitang’s face.

Hua Yitang’s eyes flew wide open in horror. Done. For.

Mini skit:

Fangke, Jin Ruo, Mu Xia, and Yita all shuddered at the same moment:

A sense of terrible foreboding.

No update tomorrow — I have to go out and take care of something.