Yin Fengshi turned his head in mild surprise toward the newcomer. “How do you have the leisure to come by today?”

The snow at Leyou Park had melted, and the grass had turned green — fine weather again for polo. Clusters of young nobles were scattered across the grounds, chatting and laughing as they played.

Zhang Zhixu stood alone at the edge of the field, idly turning the ornament on his waist. “I have two days of leave.”

“I know you have leave, but in the past, leave days meant rushing straight to Pingqing Marquis’s residence.”

Zhang Zhixu said nothing. He pressed his lips together, his brows slightly lowered.

Yin Fengshi scratched his head and leaned against the fence beside him. “Hey, have you heard? Qingzhang and Xie Lanting have had a falling out recently. They even came to blows in the street yesterday.”

Xu Buran and Xie Lanting were a genuinely interesting pair — inseparable before, with nothing left unsaid between them, only to suddenly, for reasons unknown, turn on each other with bitter hatred.

Zhang Zhixu still wore a listless expression, with no interest in picking up the conversation.

But a nearby young man had been listening and leaned in eagerly. “I know all about this. Isn’t it because of that case involving the Pingqing Marquis and patricide?”

Zhang Zhixu and Yin Fengshi both turned to look at him.

It was Gu Hualing, a young scion of the Gu Family — one of Shangjing’s well-known idlers, always full of gossip.

He opened his mouth and began, “The Pingqing Marquis case was strange from the start. First there was a body-sale contract proving the relationship between Chen Yuaner and Cheng Huaili. Then there was testimony establishing the relationship between Chen Yuaner and Chen Baoxiang. On top of that, Xu Buran personally confirmed that Chen Baoxiang had dealt with Cheng Huaili with great brutality and harbored a personal grudge. Whoever presided over the case would have had good reason to find Lu Qingrong’s accusation credible.”

“So Xie Lanting compiled the evidence and submitted it.”

“But at the critical moment, Xu Buran suddenly recanted his testimony — said he had never personally witnessed Chen Baoxiang kill Cheng Huaili, and that he had no clear knowledge of the relationship between the two. The village headman also recanted, saying he could no longer be certain whether the child Chen Yuaner bore all those years ago had survived or not.”

“Well, that rather buried Xie Lanting, didn’t it.”

Xie Lanting had always had an uncommonly sharp intuition — almost like a gift — that let him draw close to the truth before the evidence did.

But this time, that very gift had cost him dearly. The Emperor had already felt that patricide was a fabricated charge to begin with, and then to have witnesses recant after the case had already been submitted made it appear as though the Court of Judicial Review had been prejudiced all along.

“Why did Qingzhang suddenly turn on Xie Lanting like that?” Yin Fengshi said, puzzled. “It’s not like him at all.”

“Hah.” Gu Hualing waved a hand. “What else could make brothers fall out? A woman, of course.”

“……” Yin Fengshi snuck a sideways glance at Zhang Zhixu.

“So,” Zhang Zhixu said, his face expressionless, “Lu Qingrong has gotten close to Xu Buran.”

“Worthy of Lord Zhang, as perceptive as ever.” Gu Hualing gave him a casual thumbs-up, then continued in his carefree way, “Our Lord Xie has really capsized this time. Lu Qingrong used him as a stepping stone to reach Xu Buran, drove a wedge between the two and had them brawling in public — and then walked away from it all completely unscathed. Quite something, this woman. More formidable than any of the others Xie Lanting has encountered before.”

Xie Lanting had bought the freedom of no small number of official and private courtesans. He always sent them away after a while, and not one of them had ever managed to turn the tables on him.

Yet not only had Lu Qingrong turned the tables — she had also taken a vicious bite out of him. By the time she had maneuvered him into a ruined reputation and a fractured friendship, she had exited without a scratch.

Xie Lanting, a man of such remarkable talent for solving cases — someone who should have made a great name for himself — now found himself forced to stay home under suspension, awaiting transfer or demotion.

Yin Fengshi felt a pang of rue over it. He thought Xie Lanting’s punishment didn’t fit his crime.

But Zhang Zhixu was unmoved.

A case was a case, and private feelings were private feelings. The moment Xie Lanting had allowed the two to become entangled, he was nothing more than a carouser on a pleasure terrace — no longer the rigorous upholder of law in the Court of Judicial Review.

The world would always produce people of great talent. The court would not stop hearing cases just because one person left. He had not treasured his own opportunity, so the opportunity would pass to someone else.

The court was, in the end, a ruthless place. It had no room for romantic entanglements.

— At this thought, the hand holding his waist ornament suddenly stiffened.

Chen Baoxiang’s face surfaced in his mind.

She would smile and call him the finest of men. She would stand in front of him and shield him.

Yet even when they kissed, those bright almond-shaped eyes of hers were always clean and undisturbed — utterly still. It seemed that only when they fixed themselves on an enemy did a burning fire flare up in them.

Zhang Zhixu let out a low, involuntary laugh.

Worthy of Lord Chen — she was so much clearer-headed than Xie Lanting, and carried herself so much better.

Romantic entanglements brought ruin to great undertakings. Yet Lord Chen was someone who could accomplish great things.

It was fine. This was how it should be.

He just needed to think on it a few more days, and perhaps he would come to terms with it again.

Gu Hualing in front of him was still chattering away, having moved on from Xie Lanting to Lu Qingrong, mentioning that this woman had some distant old connection to a distant branch of his own clan.

He spoke without any particular intent. But the listener had his own thoughts.

Zhang Zhixu suddenly asked, “You know her as well?”

Gu Hualing waved a hand. “Given my station and hers, how would I ever have occasion to know her? It’s just that two months ago, when she had nowhere to turn, my fourth uncle was kindhearted enough to give her a meal. I caught a glimpse of her and heard the people below talking about her a few times.”

The Gu Family, too, was one of the great century-old clans. During the years when Gu Changyu served as Chief Minister, they had flourished for several decades, their prominence rivaling even the Zhang Family at its peak. But the later generations had produced little of note, and the clan now relied on their forebears’ accumulated influence to maintain a modest presence in the court.

The highest-ranking among them was Gu Hualing’s fourth uncle, Gu Yijian — a Grand Scholar of the Hongwen Academy, overseeing the management of imperial archives and court records, and the revision of court systems. In the current push to reform the examination system, his voice of opposition had been the loudest — and he had been the most determined to make things difficult for Chen Baoxiang.

Zhang Zhixu couldn’t help giving Gu Hualing a second look.

Gu Hualing had always dreamed of befriending someone like Zhang Zhixu. The moment he saw the man smile at him, his spirits soared. “I’ve reserved a private room nearby. We’ve had such good conversation today — Lord Zhang, would you honor me by sitting down for a drink?”

Yin Fengshi was about to deflect on his behalf, knowing that Zhang Fengqing disliked social gatherings.

But to his surprise, today Zhang Fengqing gave his own answer before anyone else could — and it was a nod. “I would be glad to.”

“No trouble at all, no trouble! I’ll arrange a private table just for you — Lord Yin, you must come as well?”

“It would be rude to decline.”

“Wonderful, wonderful — right this way, please!” Gu Hualing cheerfully went off to make the arrangements.

Yin Fengshi fell into step beside Zhang Zhixu as they walked toward the courtyard, studying him with repeated glances. “You’re genuinely at loose ends today?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “Might as well drink oneself into a stupor.”

“Please don’t — you may have no one to account to, but I certainly do. If I’m not back by the end of the Dog Hour, my wife will come marching straight to Leyou Park to drag me home.” Yin Fengshi waved his hands in protest.

Zhang Zhixu gave him a sideways look. “Didn’t you say before that your marriage was arranged by your parents, and that you and your wife were not well acquainted?”

“That’s what I said at the time, but we’ve been married this long — however unfamiliar you start out, you end up familiar.” Yin Fengshi scratched his head, then tugged self-consciously at his sleeve. “She — she’s actually quite a good person.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t give me that look. Every time I come home drunk, she wipes my face and hands, and makes me a hangover remedy. She takes excellent care of my parents on my behalf, and manages all the household affairs, big and small, in perfect order.”

The more Zhang Zhixu heard, the more perplexed he became. “That sounds like a very competent head housekeeper to me.”

“What do you mean housekeeper!” Yin Fengshi shot back. “She does all that because she cares about me.”

“Then tell me something that goes beyond the duties of a housekeeper.”

“……”

Yin Fengshi scratched his chin and thought for a long while. “My wife makes me handmade sachets.”

Zhang Zhixu didn’t even look up. “The ornament on my waist was also made for me by hand.”

“That’s different — yours can be bought at Xiang She Lou. I just went to look the other day. Over four hundred taels.”

“Which makes it all the more impressive — something she made by hand sells for over four hundred taels.” Zhang Zhixu raised an eyebrow. “And your wife’s sachets?”