The Pei family had recently opened a new teahouse in Yangdu, named “Idle Gazing.” It stood in the Yanniú Ward in the northwestern corner of Yangdu, facing the Jiuchu River to the east, backing against the Nine-Bend Pool to the north, and looking out westward toward the Western Water Gate and the Great Ming Bridge. The building rose three stories high with sweeping, unobstructed views and scenery of exceptional beauty — especially the private rooms on the third floor, each fitted with its own open-air viewing terrace. By day one could gaze upon the water; by night, admire the moon; in fair weather, bask amidst the clouds; in rain, listen to the patter on the plantain leaves. Worthy in every sense of the name: “To idly hear the flowers bloom and fall, and gaze afar at the magnificent colors spread across the sky.”

In less than ten days since its opening, the Idle Gazing Teahouse had risen to the top of Yangdu’s Seven Great Teahouses. Of all its offerings, the signature “Far Road Tea” proved most beloved among scholars and literati: anyone who came to compose poetry and savor tea and could not claim to have tasted this brew had no business greeting their neighbors on the way out.

With the tea so hard to come by, the price had naturally risen accordingly. A full tea service came to five hundred coins — a figure that drew from Lin Sui’an a heartfelt cry of “daylight robbery,” most especially after she had tasted it. The tea was bitter and astringent, with an added top note that called to mind the water used to rinse out a cooking pot. She simply could not fathom what all these affectation-chasing literati were competing to praise.

“What one calls ‘elegance,'” said Hua Yitang, raising his teacup to toast the busy procession of boats beyond the Western Water Gate and inhaling the tea’s fragrance before taking a delicate sip, swaying his head appreciatively to the guqin music drifting through the teahouse, “must naturally be appreciated together with fine scenery and refined music. The most marvelous quality of Far Road Tea lies in its lingering aftertaste — boundless and unending, far-reaching as the horizon — for as they say, a long road reveals a horse’s strength; through time one knows a person’s heart—”

Abruptly, the corner of Hua Yitang’s eyebrow gave an imperceptible twitch.

Lin Sui’an rinsed her mouth with a gulp of plain boiled water, watching the twitch in Hua Yitang’s eye grow increasingly frequent: go ahead, keep spinning that tale if you dare.

Hua Yitang cleared his throat and set down his teacup. Mu Xia carried away the pot that reeked of pot-rinsing water and brought out a tea cake they had brought from the Hua estate to brew fresh. It had to be said that Mu Xia’s technique was visibly superior to that of the teahouse’s own tea master; every gesture and movement bore the mark of deep-rooted skill, and was genuinely pleasing to watch.

What a pity that, as far as the flavor of tea in this era went, Lin Sui’an had no capacity to appreciate it — she could only admire from a distance, never sample up close.

Lin Sui’an shifted her gaze toward the shimmering surface of the Jiuchu River. The riverbanks were thick with pedestrians, lively and noisy — not so different, she thought, from the scene on the day she had first arrived in Yangdu. For the common folk, even the rise and fall of the great Feng family — whose name had shaken the world — was little more than idle talk over tea and meals.

Yet there was one matter Lin Sui’an could not set her mind at ease over.

“Those fathers and mothers whose daughters were taken — has the prefecture office found them, and told them the outcome?”

“With Zhou Changping dropping dead so suddenly, and then the whole affair with the Feng family on top of that, the court is going to need quite a tussle before they can settle on a new candidate for Governor of Yangdu. Counting on the prefecture office would be like counting on a duck to climb a tree.” Hua Yitang’s tongue, true to form, delivered its scathing verdict on the authorities first before adding, “Mu Zhong has already sent people to look into it. It has been several years, though, so who knows how many families can still be found. Ling the Sixth has seized a portion of the Feng family’s assets and says he has already reported it to the Court of Judicial Review — that portion will be set aside as compensation for the families of those young girls.”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “Inspector Ling certainly handles things with care.”

Hua Yitang gave a snort. “He couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye when he left, and he welshed on the sixty bolts of silk he owed me as payment. The Ling clan is exactly as the rumors say — petty! Stingy!”

Lin Sui’an took a sip of water and wisely said nothing.

Half a month ago, Ling Zhiyan had escorted the chief culprits from the Feng, Yan, Bai, and Jiang families northward to the Eastern Capital. Before departing, he had made a special trip to see her, paid her twenty bolts of silk as her investigation fee, and written an IOU for the remaining forty. He had also specifically told her not to mention any of it to Hua Yitang. The twenty bolts had come out of Ling Zhiyan’s own salary — he truly had no more to give at the time — and he would settle the remainder when his finances were in better shape. As for Hua Yitang’s share…

In Ling Zhiyan’s own words: “It is Ling’s personal opinion that there is simply no call to toss copper coins into a golden basin. It would be a genuine waste.”

Lin Sui’an had agreed wholeheartedly. She accepted the silk with a glad heart, and the very next day hauled two bolts of it over to the rental agency in Chongyuan Ward to place a deposit, choosing a courtyard facing south. She was only waiting for the landlord to finish preparing the place before she could move in to her new home and welcome a fresh, flourishing new life.

But for reasons she couldn’t quite work out, that landlord had been dragging his feet in the most insufferable way — half a month of preparing and still no handover in sight — and she’d been stuck continuing to lodge at the Hua estate in the meantime. She’d considered moving to an inn as a temporary measure, but every time she so much as raised the subject, Hua Yitang would fix her with those brilliant red-rimmed eyes of his, and she would feel so inexplicably guilty that she’d simply drop it.

Today the rental agency had at last sent word: the landlord intended to hand over the property that very afternoon, and invited Lin Sui’an to come in person for a conversation and to finalize the lease agreement.

Just thinking about finally being free of Hua Yitang — that chatterbox — put Lin Sui’an in a delightful mood. Even the look she gave him softened considerably.

Hua Yitang was clearly not accustomed to this. After watching her for quite some time, he finally couldn’t restrain himself. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Lin Sui’an: “Not telling you.”

Hua Yitang puffed up with irritation and began fanning himself with his little folding fan, arranging his face into that long-suffering, aggrieved expression. Seeing that Lin Sui’an remained entirely unmoved, he snapped the fan shut with a crisp click, drew a long breath, and was just preparing to deploy his ultimate weapon — a verbal barrage — when Mu Xia came hurrying in and whispered something in his ear. Hua Yitang leaped to his feet as though scalded, spinning in a frantic circle like an ant on a hot pan. “Something urgent has come up at home — I must go at once. Whatever you want to eat or drink, tell the proprietor to put it on my account.”

The last word had not yet left his lips before the man himself had already gone tearing off.

Lin Sui’an leaned against the railing and watched Hua Yitang leap into his carriage and vanish in a cloud of dust. She yawned, rolled over, and sunned herself for another quarter-hour, then picked up Qian Jing and strolled leisurely downstairs along the banks of the Jiuchu River.

Tall scholartrees lined both banks of the Jiuchu, their canopies soaring to the clouds, rustling in the river wind. It was another fine day; the sunshine polished the leaves to a bright sheen, and birds tucked among the branches sang out in cheerful bursts. Today the riverbanks were livelier than usual: in addition to the regular vendors hawking their wares, there were many more sellers of fresh fruits and flowers than normal. The mingled fragrance of fruit and blossom gave Lin Sui’an the fleeting illusion that a certain fragrant, pampered young master of the idle class was still strolling beside her.

As she walked, Lin Sui’an began to notice something odd. The vendors of fruits and flowers were all women, while the buyers of fruits and flowers were all men — and most of them were scholars in white robes with dark cloth caps on their heads, satchels on their backs stuffed with one roll of poetry-scrolls after another. Some carried flowers in their hands; some had tucked flowers into their hair. The fruits had all been carefully wiped clean with handkerchiefs and were cradled with great care. Every one of them was flushed with high spirits, eyes brimming with tender feeling. They didn’t wander far — just drifting back and forth along the Jiuchu embankment — now and then reciting lines of sentimental verse, things like “my heart follows the river into the distance” and “trees in the shadow, shadow upon shadow — longing, heavy as mountains.”

Lin Sui’an counted the days. Today was the first day of the tenth month. Was there some special festival? But then why were only the men dressed in new clothes and wearing fresh flowers, while all the women were conducting business and keeping busy?

Head full of questions, Lin Sui’an followed the Jiuchu River through Meisan Ward, Juanyu Ward, Yuyan Ward, Furong Ward, Hongzhuang Ward, and Lvyun Ward, past the Second and Third bridges of the Southern Three Bridges, and arrived at Xinsu Ward. Good heavens — there were even more people on this side of the river, almost shoulder to shoulder, elbowing for space. White robes floated like clouds. Lin Sui’an had reason to suspect that every man in all of Yangdu had come. She squeezed through the gaps in the crowd and stood on tiptoe, searching for some time, until at last she spotted the signboard of the Yueluo Medical Hall.

Today was her follow-up appointment. Doctor Yue had originally offered to make a house call, but Lin Sui’an felt she had long since recovered well enough and couldn’t bear to keep troubling the doctor with personal visits — so she had volunteered to come to the clinic herself. Had she known the roads would be this congested, she would have picked a different time.

“Doctor Yue, what day is today? Why is it so lively?” Lin Sui’an was still shaking out her clothes as she stepped across the threshold — and then she gave a sudden start and stopped in her tracks.

The atmosphere inside the medical hall was distinctly unusual. Not a single person was in sight. A faint aura of menace seeped through the air.

Lin Sui’an quietly closed her hand around Qian Jing’s hilt. She had never been to the Yueluo Medical Hall before and was wholly unfamiliar with the layout, so she could only feel her way forward according to general bearings — the main hall was empty. She circled behind the counter, passed through a side door, entered the rear hall, made her way through it, and came out directly into the back courtyard. Suddenly, she caught a fragrance — sweet and heart-stealing. Her scalp prickled instantly. She pulled her sleeve up over her nose and mouth and swept the space with wary eyes.

That scent was far too pleasant. When something seemed too good to be true, there was always a catch.

“Oh my, could you be Lin Sui’an?” A voice drifted out from somewhere nearby.

How to describe this voice — it was like the murmur of autumn water, like the dissolving of moonlight, sweeping around the curve of the ear so that half of Lin Sui’an’s body went soft with it.

What was this? The soul-snaring technique from some martial arts novel? Lin Sui’an was badly startled. Not daring to make a rash move, she drew Qian Jing halfway from its sheath and searched with wary eyes.

The fragrance intensified. A figure walked into the courtyard against the light. Red pomegranate skirt, pale green silk stole, cloud-piled hair adorned with pearl pins, jade pendants chiming softly. The sunlight painted shifting, dazzling patterns of light and shadow across her face.

Lin Sui’an was struck dumb. Across two lifetimes combined, she had never in her life laid eyes on a person so beautiful. With her woeful literary vocabulary, nothing rose to mind beyond the internal exclamations of “my god,” “this life is complete,” and a single phrase: peerless beauty enough to topple kingdoms and cities. Where had all those passages from the Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River gone, the ones she’d memorized for her university entrance examinations? How had she forgotten every last word of them at the crucial moment?

Perhaps it was the sheer stupidity of Lin Sui’an’s expression, but the young woman laughed — and the sound was as though celestial music had fallen upon the ear. Lin Sui’an swallowed with a gulp, so nervous she didn’t know what to do with her hands or feet. She took several deep, steadying breaths before she managed to locate her own voice. “Might I ask, Niangzi — have you seen Doctor Yue?”

“She stepped out for a moment. Please wait.” The woman walked slowly toward her, each step blooming like a lotus. Lin Sui’an grew only more anxious, thinking she had best step out of the picture so as not to spoil the visual effect. She retreated, step by step — but the woman advanced with every step she took. Lin Sui’an backed away, the woman drew closer, until at last Lin Sui’an found herself driven into a corner with nowhere left to retreat. The woman cocked her head to one side, studying her — and then, suddenly, she reached out with a slender, jade-like finger and poked Lin Sui’an in the cheek.

Lin Sui’an’s knees went weak. She barely kept herself from sitting down on the spot.

The woman’s eyes curved into twin crescents as she covered her mouth and laughed low. “How delightful.”

Who am I? Where am I? Why is an impossibly beautiful woman flirting with a perfectly law-abiding person like me?! Lin Sui’an stood there in a daze, staring blankly at the woman before her — staring, staring — when suddenly she felt something wasn’t quite right. Why did those eyes and brows look vaguely familiar?

At that exact moment, a violent rush of wind broke from directly overhead. A crushing wave of killing intent descended like a net. Lin Sui’an’s face drained of color. She lunged forward in a single stride and swept her arm around the beauty’s waist. Her feet flew in rapid steps as her robes spun out like a whirlwind, carrying them several feet clear. A figure appeared on the spot where they had just been standing — tall and lithe, with green eyes, golden hair, a high-bridged nose, and pale skin. A Persian youth, clearly. He was dressed in Tang-style clothing, and every one of his ten fingers bore a brightly colored gemstone ring; the knuckles crackled as he worked them.

The Persian youth was handsome enough — a notably fine face — but for some unknown reason he radiated a whole-body hostility. The pupils of his blue eyes seemed to hold both ice and fire simultaneously.

“Let go!” His accent carried the curling lilt distinctive to foreigners, which gave it an oddly endearing quality quite at odds with that full-body ferocity.

His gaze was fixed entirely on Lin Sui’an — specifically, on the hand she had wrapped — around — the beauty’s — waist.

Lin Sui’an understood at once and promptly side-stepped two paces, raising both hands to indicate her innocence. “A moment of urgency — please do not misunderstand.”

The beauty gave a little laugh. “Ita, she is Lin Sui’an. Is she not adorably cute?”

Goodness only knew which critical word had struck some sensitive nerve in this “Ita,” but the flash of blue in the youth’s eyes flared violently, and he shot forward in an instant. His fists, carrying the sound of rushing air, came hammering toward Lin Sui’an’s face. Lin Sui’an’s heart lurched — this person changed his temper faster than turning a page. On pure reflex she drew Qian Jing to block. The blade scraped across the gemstone rings and showered a spray of tiny sparks. One exchange was enough for Lin Sui’an to take his measure: the stance was imposing, but the strength behind it was far inferior to hers. Riding the momentum of the blade, she flipped her wrist in a reverse upward sweep. The fierce blade-wind sent Ita stumbling back several steps, and he sat down hard on the ground, his pair of blue eyes gaping wide — clearly he’d been too stunned to fully register what had happened.

The beauty let out a low whistle of appreciation.

Lin Sui’an returned Qian Jing to its sheath and sighed. “Do the two of you know me?”

The beauty shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Is there some misunderstanding between us?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do we have a grudge?”

“Of course not.”

Had anyone else spoken with such maddening nonchalance, Lin Sui’an would have been furious long since. But the other party happened to be a peerless beauty — and Lin Sui’an did want to be angry, truly she did, but the woman was smiling at her — and she couldn’t work up so much as a single spark of temper.

The tragic curse of being powerless before a beautiful face.

Lin Sui’an made an immediate decision: can’t win, so run.

“Good day.”

Lin Sui’an bolted from the Yueluo Medical Hall in a gust of wind. The moment her head poked through the doorway, the deafening shouts outside gave her a tremendous fright. The white-robed men in the street had multiplied several times over, all crying themselves hoarse with love-struck verse:

“Longing stretches endlessly on, day upon day, month upon month, the years seem as glorious as a dream.”

“Snow of ten thousand years, frost of a thousand — let this longing never stretch on long!”

“Red berries grow in the lands of the south — this thing, most of all, stirs thoughts of you!”

Far off down the street, a four-horse carriage was rolling slowly forward. The two grooms driving it were fine-looking young men. The horses’ coats shone like white satin, rippling with pearl-like luster at every step; their manes and tails were threaded with golden bells that chimed bright and clear. Most remarkable of all, four flat-bed carts trailed behind the carriage, heaped high with fresh fruits and flowers. As the procession drew closer, the men lining both sides of the road cast the fruits and bouquets in their hands into the carts.

Lin Sui’an stared open-mouthed: could this actually be the legendary “carriage filled by thrown fruits” in person?

Then the person in that carriage must be—

“Hey! Take this!” From behind her came a sharp war cry. It was that Ita, who had chased her out. Both fists came crashing down at her head. The gemstone rings caught a flash of sunlight — a whirl of dazzle and glare — apparently the rings’ primary purpose being to blind opponents with reflected light.

Lin Sui’an dared not linger in a prolonged fight. Qian Jing was an ancient treasure of a weapon, and if she accidentally shattered a gemstone, she’d be staring down a damage claim. With bare hands she deflected five or six strikes, then planted her left foot against the wall, her right against a pillar, and executed a leap like a fish arcing over a dragon gate — clearing the rooftop with effortless ease.

Ita was so furious his eyes went a shade darker. “Get down!”

Lin Sui’an crouched at the eave’s edge, eyebrow raised. “Come up here and make me.”

“Get down!”

“Ha, no.”

Lin Sui’an was quite enjoying herself, when a cry of alarm broke through the crowd below. It was immediately swallowed by a shrill, piercing wail that drowned out every other sound.

“My longing for you burns like a fever; my heart and bowels break inch by inch!”

The horses whinnied; the procession lurched to a halt. A white-robed man had dropped to his knees in the middle of the road. With one hand he tore open his collar; with the other he gripped a dagger, its tip pressed to his chest. Tears streaming down his face, he cried: “Second Lady, if you still refuse to see me today, I will dig out my heart and liver on this very spot to prove my devotion!”

Mini-theatre:

Lin Sui’an: Oh my, today really is a wonderful day for watching drama!

New story arc begins — the new characters are already champing at the bit!