The person ahead of him moved through the courtyard as if blind, not noticing a thing around her.

Zhang Zhixu stopped walking.

He stood under the eaves and watched. The servants in the courtyard seemed equally blind — they kept on bringing out dish after dish, and those people’s hands were reaching right into the platters they carried, and still the servants showed no reaction whatsoever.

For a moment, it was natural that Zhang Zhixu wondered if there was something wrong with his own eyes.

But looking more carefully—

Two people had come to blows over a scrap of food. From the other side of the table, a handful of armed constables strode over and pushed them back into orderly eating.

Some of the ragged figures who had been hovering timidly at the edges — uncertain, watching — saw that the food at these tables was available for the taking, and swarmed in from all directions.

Dishes that the noble guests had no appetite for were cleaned down to the last dregs of oil by the time they reached these hands.

“How can it be so expensive?” Across the way, Chen Baoxiang was pinching her own cheeks and wailing.

But another large plate of scallion flatbreads was snatched from right in front of her, and she turned her head — and seemed not to see.

Something moved in Zhang Zhixu’s chest.

Great Immortal, we’re finally going to be rich~

I’ve always been far more willing to be a comfortable scoundrel than a miserable saint — it’s not as if you don’t know that about me.

— He too had thought he knew everything about her.

But.

He looked up at the distant Chen Baoxiang, who was cursing and grumbling away at the top of her lungs. Then he looked at the people feasting right under her nose.

Zhang Zhixu lowered his eyes, and felt that there were some things he genuinely did not know.

For instance: these days happened to fall during the period when farmhands whose land had been seized were traveling to the capital to file their complaints and reclaim their fields. They were strangers in an unfamiliar city with no money — where were they supposed to find a meal?

For instance: those who had lost their land and their families even earlier, and had since fallen into beggary — with Guangxia Quarter’s shelters still not yet completed, how were they supposed to get through each day?

What he did not know, Chen Baoxiang knew.

Three days of open-table seating, an extravagant hundred tables — even when the later courses were mostly scraps of meat, simple side dishes, and steamed buns with porridge and flatbread, they were enough to give a person several full meals here at her door.

No banner proclaiming relief work. No signboard hung out to announce anything. No one was asked to be grateful for anything. Everyone seated here had simply been fortunate enough to stumble upon a prosperous household’s spring banquet.

Just like what Chen Baoxiang herself had once imagined, sitting on a street corner with only a few dozen copper coins to her name, hoping for spring to come quickly.

Something warm and strange swelled in his chest, and along with it, his heartbeat quickened.

Zhang Zhixu snapped open his fan and gave it a slow wave. “Jiuquan, it seems to be getting warmer.”

Jiuquan looked up at the sky with puzzlement. “Master, it’s still early spring.”

“Is it.”

He had been feeling warm often lately. He supposed it was because of Chen Baoxiang — this person was always restless and impulsive, and spending time around her, he naturally could not help being affected.

Just then, someone shouted from upstairs: “Host! Young Master Zhang has gotten into a fight!”

“What?” Chen Baoxiang was startled.

Scuffles at a drinking feast were common enough, especially today when many of the guests were soldiers — she had made some preparations for that. But the last thing she could have anticipated was that of all people, it would be Zhang Xilai — ordinarily so proper and courteous — to throw the first punch.

By the time Chen Baoxiang got there, Xie Lanting was physically restraining Zhang Xilai. The young official’s eyes were bloodshot, his breath ragged, and the fist hanging at his side was still trembling.

Across from him, a man with his hand pressed to his face was snarling with fury: “Lucky for you I didn’t bring my people today, or I’d have you carried out flat on your back!”

Who could hear that and not be incensed? Zhang Xilai had been just on the verge of calming down — and at those words, he surged forward again.

Chen Baoxiang hurried over to help hold him back, intending to say something about Yinyue still being right there — how could he carry on like this in front of her?

But the words hadn’t left her mouth before a flash of crimson swept past her eyes.

“Your mouth still isn’t clean? Still isn’t clean!” Yinyue had seized a stool and hurled it. “I’ll carry you out flat myself right now!”

Chen Baoxiang: ?

She spun in midair — practically — and flung her arms around Yinyue. “Don’t hurt yourself — what’s going on?”

The stool had hit its mark; Yinyue was already trying to kick the man again, but Chen Baoxiang’s grip was far too strong, and she could not budge. She turned her head: “Baoxiang Sister, I’m sorry to bring trouble to your door.”

“I’m not afraid of a little trouble.” She pulled Yinyue further away. “But what is all this?”

The room was packed with people — some calling for calm, some calling for a physician. Ningsu and Jiuquan moved in and began clearing the space, herding everyone toward the side rooms.

When things finally quieted down, Yinyue’s agitation settled somewhat.

Her eyes still red, she said: “That man serves under Cheng Huaili. He came over pretending to be drunk and said he wanted to ‘try out the prospective bride’ on his general’s behalf — something about it being a custom from his home village.”

What kind of talk was that?

Chen Baoxiang’s temper flared instantly. She rolled up her sleeve and made to go after the man.

Zhang Zhixu caught her with one arm and said, frowning: “Let someone finish speaking.”

“What else is there to hear? Just those words alone are enough for me to break one of his legs.” Chen Baoxiang struggled against his grip. “What filthy excuse for a person — coming onto my grounds to bully my friends — let me go, I’ll kill him.”

Yinyue shrank a little and tugged at Chen Baoxiang’s sleeve. “I already dealt with him. The moment the words left his mouth I slapped him twice across the face — and then I upended a plate of freshly cooked pork slices over his head.”

Chen Baoxiang’s struggling froze.

She stared at Zhang Yinyue in astonishment. “Oh…?”

“He was the one who provoked me first. Second Elder Brother always says that under Great Sheng law, only the one who starts a fight is at fault — anyone who retaliates bears no guilt.”

“I’m not saying you’re at fault.” Chen Baoxiang went back to her and crouched down to look at her palms. “I’m just amazed your hands pack that much force.”

Zhang Yinyue was also someone raised in comfort and leisure — naturally her physical strength was nothing remarkable. But she had already been carrying a heart full of pent-up feeling, and when a wretch like that appeared at the worst possible moment, the anger came flooding out and she had simply stopped caring about consequences.

It was only fair, really. She had waited so long for Baoxiang Sister’s invitation — she had come happy and hopeful, looking forward to finding a moment to speak with Zhang Xilai. At the very least she owed him an apology; she had gotten him beaten last time because of her.

But Zhang Xilai had been avoiding her the entire time. Whatever she said, he only nodded. He wouldn’t even look at her.

When the table arrangements had been set, Zhang Xilai had quietly gone to swap seats with Xie Lanting rather than sit with the Zhang family.

Yinyue’s heart felt like it had been plunged into a jar of white vinegar — puckered and pinched and stinging.

And then that wretch had come stumbling over and said his disgusting piece, and of course she had lashed out.

What she hadn’t told Baoxiang Sister was this: the moment she struck him, the man had moved to retaliate. He was military bred — in both strength and build, he had every advantage over her.

Just when it looked like she was about to come off badly, Zhang Xilai — who had not once looked at her all day — had come charging in and thrown himself at the man like a dog gone mad.

At the thought, Zhang Yinyue snapped her head around to look at Zhang Xilai.

His hand was scraped and bleeding. His eyes had already shifted away again to stare out the window.

Chen Baoxiang looked at these two people, clicked her tongue, and turned to the immortal. “You take care of that one — I’ll take care of this one. We’ll split up and talk to them separately.”

Zhang Zhixu gave a nod and glanced at Zhang Xilai. The latter felt a chill run down his spine and obediently fell into step behind him as they walked toward the back garden.

“Younger Uncle, I’m sorry.” Zhang Xilai had opened his mouth before they even reached the garden.