The previously boisterous table suddenly fell into dead silence.

Chen Baoxiang had been buried in her food when someone nudged her elbow.

She looked up in confusion and found that someone had appeared beside Registrar Zhao — a tall, jade-like figure with snow-white wrists, head bowed, carefully pouring wine.

Registrar Zhao, who had just moments ago been drunk and rambling incoherently, sobered up instantly. He rose to his feet trembling: “M-My Lord?”

Zhang Zhixu pressed him back down with an expressionless face. “Just passing through. Pay me no mind.”

Registrar Zhao looked at him, then at the tightly shut front door, and couldn’t for the life of him figure out where this path had passed through from.

Chen Baoxiang nearly choked on a mouthful of meat. She hurried over and pulled him aside. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”

The man before her suddenly looked aggrieved. His long lashes drooped, trembling like butterfly wings. “There was no tea in the room. I couldn’t find Jiuquan or Ningsu, so I had no choice but to come find you.”

His voice was low and soft, enough to melt anyone’s heart.

Chen Baoxiang instantly felt like a terrible person. The man had already been driven out of his home — that was pitiful enough — and here she was being harsh to him on top of it.

He had always been such a distinguished person. Now here he stood under the eaves in the plainest unadorned silk robe, asking her for a cup of tea.

She couldn’t be bothered with the setting anymore. She dashed back to the table, ignoring the shocked stares of everyone present, picked up her own full teacup, and rushed back to his side.

“Here, drink this first. I’ll hire some servants later.” She scratched her head. “How many do we need? What kind of servants did you have before?”

Zhang Zhixu took a sip of tea. “Roughly speaking: four gate attendants, three coachmen, four sedan-chair bearers, eight storehouse workers, twenty general servants, two lamp-lighting maids, six cooks, eight sweepers, forty household guards, eight personal attendants and manservants, and then there’s the head steward and the accountant…”

Chen Baoxiang kept her expression composed while her legs grew more unsteady with each item he listed.

He glanced at her and curved his lips slightly. “But here with you, Jiuquan and Ningsu will be enough.”

For a moment Chen Baoxiang felt like a penniless country boy without prospects, while the person before her was a wealthy young lady who had set her heart on eloping with him.

Behind her, the whole table was craning their necks to look over.

Zhang Zhixu caught sight of Xu Buran among them from the corner of his eye. Xu Buran was also watching him.

Their gazes met — one issued a challenge, the other held wariness.

In the air between them, it was as if mist had taken the shape of a beast, lunging to bite the dog across from it, while the mist across the way transformed into a long spear, sweeping sideways to deflect a hacking blade.

An invisible clash of swords and blades played out above Chen Baoxiang’s head in several rapid exchanges.

The person before her noticed none of it, and simply asked: “Do you want to sit down and eat something too?”

Zhang Zhixu lowered his gaze to look at her.

This person’s eyes were fixed entirely on him, with not even a flicker toward anyone else. Her clear, bright eyes didn’t blink. They were quite lovely.

The thin mist dispersed. The outcome was decided.

Zhang Zhixu unhurriedly finished the cup of tea, then set the empty cup back into Chen Baoxiang’s palm. “I won’t eat. I have to go out for a while — I might be back late.”

“Alright, I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“Go to sleep if it gets too late.”

“Okay.”

The two murmured together for a moment. After Chen Baoxiang watched him leave through the door, she returned to her seat with the teacup still in hand.

Xu Buran withdrew his gaze, feeling somewhat sullen, but could only feign magnanimity: “Why is Fengqing living at your place?”

“Perfectly normal. I lived at his place before.”

Registrar Su and Registrar Zhao across the table were startled. They wanted to ask something but didn’t dare. All they could do was hold up their cups with trembling hands: “We drank too much earlier and said some nonsense. Please, my Lord, don’t take any of it to heart.”

Registrar Zhao added after a pause: “And please ask the chief official, my Lord, to please not take it to heart either.”

“Why are you all so nervous?” Chen Baoxiang clinked cups with them. “He’s not the petty type.”

Not petty enough?

Registrar Zhao and Registrar Su exchanged glances but held their tongues.

The group smoothed things over among themselves, covered the matter up, and began making toasts in turns again.

Chen Baoxiang had a wound and had been drinking tea, but the group, drunk and with no sense of restraint, actually had someone forcibly push a wine cup into her hands.

Xu Buran caught this from the corner of his eye and reached out to intercept it: “Let me drink that.”

The others very much wanted to make a scene out of this, but given what had happened earlier, there were reservations, and each face flushed a deep crimson from suppressing themselves.

Chen Baoxiang turned to look at him as well. “Isn’t Lord Xu being a little too good to me?”

“Still not enough,” he said, drawing out those four words, then tipped his head back and drained the cup.

Chen Baoxiang studied his profile with a thoughtful expression.

When the banquet finally broke up, she called after Xu Buran: “My Lord.”

“I know what you want to say.” Xu Buran smiled. “Fengqing is naturally better than me. With him here, there’s no place for me.”

“But, Lord Chen — what I choose to do is my own business. I haven’t demanded anything in return from you, so why must you be in such a hurry to refuse?”

Chen Baoxiang clicked her tongue, thinking, so this old lady can have moments like this too — two men this good fighting over her and offering to be good to her without asking anything back?

If she’d had such luck earlier, she wouldn’t have had to struggle so hard before.

But after studying him for a moment, she sighed. “I’ve always been one to take advantage of people, so by rights I shouldn’t be refusing you. But there’s someone who took beatings for me and severed ties with his own family. I can’t wrong him.”

“I have no intention of wronging him either.” Xu Buran lowered his eyes. “Is it truly not acceptable to simply have ordinary dealings with you, my Lord?”

“If I hadn’t seen through your feelings, then of course it would be. But I’ve seen through them today. If I don’t make this clear to you now, what would be the difference between me and Xie Lanting?”

Chen Baoxiang spread her hands: “One can’t go through life being too much like Xie Lanting.”

Xu Buran was struck speechless.

·

Back at Chunfeng Tower, Xie Lanting suddenly sneezed.

He glanced behind him, bewildered, and muttered: “Who’s talking about me now?”

“Oh my, Lord Xie, it’s been quite some time since you’ve visited! The ladies here have all been missing you.” The madam swept over, waving her handkerchief. “These past two months we’ve had quite a few fine musicians join us — their skill is so exquisite, I guarantee one look and you’ll be delighted.”

Xie Lanting smiled and made a sound of acknowledgment, but was somewhat distracted.

For some time now, he’d been having dreams about Lu Qingrong.

She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, nor was she the most clever — in fact, she was a little slow and easy to deceive. But in the deep watches of the night, he would often see her standing on a high ship deck, her mouth moving soundlessly, asking him: Why?

Why had he trifled with her feelings, why had he ruined her family, why had he woven a beautiful illusion for her and then personally raised a mallet to smash it apart, piece by piece?

Xie Lanting suddenly recalled their first private outing together — rowing on a lake, using plucked flowers as oars.

The evening sun had been perfect that day. He’d carelessly turned and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Lu Qingrong’s reaction had been enormous. She gave a violent start and pushed him right into the water with a great splash, then frantically reached out to grab his hand, her face burning crimson with embarrassment, yet afraid he truly couldn’t swim — she clutched his hand and wouldn’t let go.

Just from that one reaction he’d known: this person was very easy to handle.

There had been a flicker of guilt in his heart at the time, but only a flicker. He broke through the water’s surface and kissed her on the lips all over again.

Lu Qingrong was no match for him at all. He could capture her with the greatest of ease, and everything was unfolding just as he’d wished.

But now, two months after accomplishing his goal, Xie Lanting looked at his own hands and still felt a certain discomfort that wouldn’t quite settle.

“They’re here, my Lord.” A string of young women filed in from outside.

Xie Lanting came back to himself, raised his eyes to sweep across them — and then his gaze suddenly stopped.

He rose to his feet, strode in long steps through the two rows of people at the front, and went directly to seize the sleeve of the very last person in line.