Chen Dasheng’s duties these days were exhausting. He ran three routes: from the Prince’s mansion to the Changdao Bureau, which meant crossing half of Yandu; then from the bureau he had to change into his armor and go to the palace, another two streets at least; then he stood guard duty in the palace watching over his father, and afterward returned to the bureau to change clothes again. Every time he got home it was already curfew hour.

He was young and ran with vigor, and he could endure the hardship, so he simply refused to let either duty slip.

Today the morning court session let out early, and by the time he returned to the old street where the Changdao Bureau stood, the stalls of the neighboring shops were already set up.

It was deep summer and scorching hot, and the better-off vendors had all put up awnings, so that looking down the street from the yamen gate, one saw nothing but a sea of cloth canopies, leaving only a single lane clear for carriages down the middle.

In other districts, any place with a government office would have insisted this not be allowed. But most of the lords and generals of the Changdao Bureau had known hardship themselves and had sympathy for the common people, so they simply had someone keep the central lane clear and let the shopkeepers do as they pleased with everything else.

As the string of a dozen-some fine horses passed down the street, even if there was an occasional bump or scrape, the shopkeepers didn’t dare complain — not until the lords of the Changdao Bureau had passed, at which point they would swarm forward cursing, saying that household was too greedy, that it shouldn’t have gotten in the way of the lords’ and generals’ sightlines, implicating everyone else.

Old Dao and the others knew nothing of this commotion. But just as they entered the bureau, Chen Dasheng caught sight of someone huddled behind the stone lion at the yamen gate.

The gatekeeper was getting far too lax, he thought.

Still in his armor, he swung down off his horse and walked over in his heavy war boots, head lowered to look. The man gave a start too, and the two of them regarded each other. Since both were in official robes, the man finally cupped his hands in a bow and said, “This lowly official is Hu Chunhou, deputy magistrate of Nanfeng Prefecture. I pay my respects, my lord.”

The moment he gave his name, Chen Dasheng knew exactly who he was, and looked the man over carefully, from head to toe.

The man was around fifty, dressed in an official’s robe from some yamen — perhaps he’d rushed here through the night, for his robe was rumpled, his hair disheveled and unkempt, and he wore no official cap. His shoes were caked with mud, and his whole face was covered in dust.

But looking at his features, Chen Dasheng could find little in this man’s face that resembled his own brother’s — except the ears. Father and son shared the same distinctive shape, like a hitching post for tying a horse.

Whatever this man had or hadn’t done to Hu Yougui, whatever debt he owed or didn’t owe, appearances still had to be kept up on the surface.

So Chen Dasheng nodded to him politely, then turned and called out to his brother, who was over on the other side taking off his armor: “Five! Come here!”

The court was becoming more and more dignified these days — last year, standing guard duty, they could still wear something light, but now they had to stand in golden armor outside the palace hall. The Changdao Bureau’s gold armor in particular was heavier and more extravagant than the rest; never mind the cost of making it, even the cords threading the armor plates together were woven from gold thread.

Never mind the grand court sessions — even an ordinary morning court in this scorching heat left a man drenched in sweat.

Hu Yougui dismounted, his golden helmet tucked under his arm, and answered, “Brother?”

Then he saw who had come, and he too froze. Clearly, he knew this disheveled, wretched man — knew him intimately, down to the bone — but didn’t know how to face him.

Chen Dasheng went over and patted his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside first, get that gear off you. Aren’t you sweltering in it?”

Hu Yougui glanced at Hu Chunhou, stood rooted for a long moment, and finally forced a smile and nodded, walking over to address the man with great courtesy: “Such a hot day — when did you arrive?”

Hu Chunhou was utterly flustered. He stared at this person who looked like his son and yet didn’t feel like his son, caught in a daze — the man before him was clad in dazzling golden armor, and he could hardly believe this was a human being at all; he looked like some god descended from heaven.

After a long moment he finally stammered, “Last… last night. The city gates… hadn’t opened yet.”

Hu Yougui nodded with a faint smile, then gestured toward the side door of the yamen. “Then come in with me. Whatever you have to say, we’ll say it inside.”

And with that, father and son vanished from view.

Chen Dasheng watched them go, somewhat anxious, yet there was nothing he could do.

Yu Qingguan noticed his unease and came over to talk to him. “Chief, don’t fret. Even if it were Jintai, even if it were Erdian in his place, this would still be a matter that costs a man some peace of mind. But this is our Yougui we’re talking about, right?”

He wrenched off his forearm guards and tossed them to an aide before continuing with a laugh, “All of us put together still don’t have as many wits about us as he does.”

Chen Dasheng felt a little more at ease and, with a wry smile, walked in with the others. After a short distance he finally said bitterly, “He’s got eight times the wits of anyone else, and still — I’m his older brother.”

Guan Si’er immediately bounced over and said, “That’s right! Even if I die and I’m reborn in my next life, you’ll still be my brother!”

Tong Jintai kicked him aside and cursed, “Get lost, you flatterer.”

Having shoved Guan Si’er away, he came to stand at the door of the meeting hall and, without any concern at all, knocked his helmet twice against the carved stone pillar.

Whatever that helmet was worth, Tong Jintai clearly didn’t care. But the guards and lowly clerks who did odd jobs around the courtyard, well used to the generals’ way of summoning them, all scrambled out from every corner and stood ramrod straight before Tong Jintai.

Tong Jintai then began cursing at them with an expression of utter disappointment: “Are you all dead? Look at what’s become of this street! Look how far you people have let things slide! Stay if you want to stay — but if you can’t do the job, tomorrow you can all go back to the Imperial Guards. There’s no rice bowl for you here…”

Chen Dasheng’s quarters were next to the meeting hall. He changed quickly, then brought out a basin of water himself, sat on the veranda eating melon the kitchen had sent up, washing his feet, and watching his brother throw his weight around on the side.

Tong Jintai stood on the steps, thoroughly enjoying himself as he kept scolding: “…Today all of you had better listen up. In the past the men didn’t bother with you because you all treated this place as a stepping stone and never stayed long — so if you slacked off a little, no one minded much. It’s scorching hot, nobody wants to bust their back working, hell, I don’t want to either…”

Cui Erdian, clanking along in his heavy armor, came and sat down beside Chen Dasheng, leaning in to whisper by his ear, “Chief, just stirring the pot a little here — you see that? What airs he’s putting on.”

Chen Dasheng had gnawed the melon rind down to something thin as a cicada’s wing. He ate while pushing Cui Erdian away, cursing, “It’s a headache just watching this handover between the old and new yamen. Go on, hurry up and get that armor off — isn’t it heavy?”

This place, it turned out, used to be a large workshop courtyard belonging to the Ministry of Works. Now that the Palace Guard had come to claim the space, the Ministry naturally wasn’t happy about it, and so there’d been endless wrangling.

Cui Erdian didn’t want to move, and muttered instead, “My third sister-in-law’s family runs a gold shop — her uncle’s side. I only get five hundred coins a month, and if I have to buy things for my wife with that, isn’t that outrageous expensive! I’m telling you, Chief, it’s been years now — can’t you at least get Sister-in-law to raise our allowance a bit? I’m a grown man too, a sixth-rank officer no less, and going out with all this gear jingling on me, all together it’s only five hundred coins — not enough to spend! Honestly, I could just about pry the gold flakes off this armor and sell them…”

The melon in Chen Dasheng’s hand suddenly wasn’t sweet anymore. He sighed helplessly. “Dreaming, are you? These days, whoever brings up money to her — that person becomes the enemy she’ll hate for eight lifetimes to come. If you want to bring it up, go ahead and bring it up yourself. I, for one, don’t dare…”

In his ear, Tong Jintai’s mighty voice kept issuing orders without pause: “You lot, today is a crucial day for your Fifth Master, so get out whatever presentable clothes you have and put them on properly! You people from the Ministry of Works, why does every single one of you look like a blacksmith? Not refined at all — bad, bad!

And you — get your hair combed properly, the ones who look a fright today should just hide yourselves… And bring out that set of gold-inlaid tortoiseshell tea bowls from your Second Master’s place, take them over to your Fifth Master’s rooms. And find those tea canisters in my quarters and send them all over too. And you there — yes, you — go to the treasury and draw some silver, then go to the pastry shop at the street corner and get ten or eight boxes of their finest tea cakes…”

Chen Dasheng cut in helplessly, “Does it really need to be this grand? Hurry back — Erdian’s waiting for you!”

Tong Jintai gave his neck a shake and explained, “Brother, you don’t understand. Our Fifth Brother — things are different for him now. We need to build up some standing for him properly, put on a proper show of it, so it shows our family has real substance behind it. Otherwise if there’s a whole crowd on the other side, will they get to bully our little Fifth?”

“Bully who?”

Right then, from within the still-bustling courtyard, came a voice that had no business being there.

Everyone turned to look, and there — someone who had no business being there at all — stood Hu Yougui, already changed into a Daoist robe, shuffling along in wooden clogs, smiling mildly.

Chen Dasheng was startled and asked, “This fast? How’d you get over here already? What — something happen?”

Hu Yougui waved off the crowd Tong Jintai had gathered and sat down next to Chen Dasheng. “Nothing happened. I sent him off already.”

Everyone was surprised, and Erdian asked, “That fast? He’s gone already?”

Hu Yougui nodded, smiling with an air of indifference. “Yes. What else was there to do? Weep and wail at each other? He’s got a new wife now, new children — each family has its own life to live. What did you expect him to do? Kowtow to me three times? Then what, am I supposed to still be a decent person after that?”

Chen Dasheng handed his brother a piece of melon. Hu Yougui bent over and gnawed at it for a while, then took a cloth handed over by little Ding and wiped his mouth before saying, indifferently, “When I was young, I always felt this knot of injustice stuck in my chest that I couldn’t get past. In my dreams I beat him, cursed him, even killed him. But now — what would I even say to him? Tell him all my suffering, my hardship, all the ugly things I went through, one more time? And then tell him it’s all because of the sin he committed, all because of what he did to me! And then what? Say it all and it’s over? Then what comes next?”

He looked around at the men in the courtyard. No one spoke; they just watched him.

Hu Yougui laughed toward the sky, his face full of mockery. “And then he apologizes to you, says he was wrong, says he’ll treat you well from now on, begs your forgiveness… and then what? Does it just pass, just like that? It doesn’t pass! I can’t get past it!

And then what — go back to him? Even if I don’t go back, because he’s apologized, all that filth, all that rot, will keep coming back to bother me anyway — telling me, your father knows he was wrong, he’s apologized, so what more can you do?

Kill him, is that it? Don’t you think your mother knew he hated people like this? Your mother never blamed him, not even on her deathbed — so what right do I have to blame him, when it was the two of them who were husband and wife? And then what? All my grievance, all my suffering — once he’s apologized, does it just pass for him too? Can it never be mentioned again?”

No one said a word. Hu Yougui flung away his melon rind, slapped the table, and said bitterly, “So better not to say anything at all. I’ll say nothing, tell him nothing. I’d rather keep everything I’ve ever gone through, everything I’ve suffered, locked up inside — and I won’t forgive him! I want to keep this hatred to sustain me. Whenever I think of it, I can be furious all over again, righteously furious, and that’s how I get by. I won’t give him a moment’s peace. Let there forever be a knot lodged in his heart that never comes loose — that’s how I get by, isn’t it right?”

He spread his hands and laughed. “He’d better not come dangling in front of me either way. I have backing now. Sooner or later I’ll rise in rank and fortune, and by then… every single day of his life, he’ll think of me. He won’t be able to rest easy. And even if he manages to, there’ll always be someone at some holiday or festival asking him, isn’t that your son? Why don’t you and your son live together? He won’t dare bring up his own shortcomings, and from then on he’ll carry that knot with him forever, tangled and unable to speak of it…”

Chen Dasheng nodded, and seeing his brother about to launch into another stream of words, finally handed him another piece of melon. “All right, all right, that’s enough. It wasn’t easy getting all that out of you, was it! You must be thirsty. Eat, go on, eat. This is the first batch of melons from our estate this year, just at their sweetest. They sent a whole batch over for your sister-in-law and she didn’t keep a single one for herself — had someone bring them all here.”

Guan Si’er, troubled by something, asked cautiously, “You let him leave…”

Cui Erdian, expressionless, clapped a hand over his mouth.

Hu Yougui took the melon and bit into it forcefully, then looked up again. “Mm. I changed my clothes, had a cup of tea with him. He looked like he wanted to ask me something, and I said, I hear there are quite a few people in the household now? Everyone’s doing well, I hope… And then he didn’t dare say anything more.

Didn’t even dare look at me. Him… hah, he’s actually had it pretty lucky, honestly — there’s always been someone to spoil him, look after him. Back then he used us, my mother and me, as stepping stones, threw us away, and that family learned how to be decent people, grew wiser, more accomplished. Well, that’s fine too. Oh — he told me my younger brother is at an academy here in the capital. After that there wasn’t much else to say, I told him I had business to attend to, and he left…”

Tong Jintai gave a short laugh. “Eat your melon.”

Chen Dasheng nodded. “Yeah…”

A few dragonflies landed on the green leaves of the summer courtyard. There wasn’t much dew on those leaves, so they kept searching, though a large pond wasn’t far off at all — but these few insisted, with all their heart, on hunting for droplets on the leaves. Who knew what they were thinking.

No one spoke; they simply watched quietly, watching the dragonflies come, and watching them go… Later Tong Jintai said he wanted to go to the gold shop, and Chen Dasheng changed into a pair of summer clogs too and went along, pulling Hu Yougui with him.

Whatever others might think, the two of them always had a home to go back to — and once you had one, that was enough; you didn’t need to think about anyone else’s.

But what they didn’t know was that, once they had walked far off, Hu Chunhou emerged from around the corner of the yamen gate. His body swayed, wracked with pain, as he watched his son’s retreating back and wept — small drops at first, falling one by one, and then a flood of tears.

When he had finally cried himself out, he found there was nothing more his tears could do, and so he could only turn and leave, going back to where he belonged.

There was nothing he could say, nothing he could beg for, and he couldn’t reach any deeper into his son’s heart — he didn’t dare. He dared anything else, but full of shame, hands and feet bound by his own guilt, he climbed into the carriage waiting by the street. Once the curtain was drawn, he swiftly gave himself a slap across the face.

This time no tears fell. As the horse’s hooves clattered along, he kept slapping himself the whole way, until both cheeks were swollen like a case of the mumps.

The place where the four streets and six markets converged wasn’t far from home; the shop belonging to Tong Jintai’s wife’s relatives stood right there.

Chen Dasheng had no money on him, and Hu Yougui had no wife, so while the others went in to buy jewelry, the two of them sat under a tree by the shop door watching the bustle.

Many people passed through the intersection of the six markets — men, women, old, young. The gold shop’s proprietor personally brought out tea and refreshments to welcome them, and Chen Dasheng asked, “Proprietor, you’ve chosen a fine spot for this shop — business here must surely be thriving.”

The proprietor, smiling like a Maitreya statue, didn’t dare admit to having made a fortune, only bowed humbly and said, in your good graces — but truthfully, however crowded this spot was, the two gentlemen could see for themselves it barely covered the rent; it was mostly for the name. If it was volume of business they were speaking of, their branches down south did far better than this one… then he excused himself.

It was the season for eating melon, and what the shop offered was, once again, melon. Chen Dasheng and the others had already had plenty at home, but carrying the deep hunger of old memories, whenever there was food to be had, they were bound to eat it.

Only the melon here wasn’t nearly as sweet as the one at home, so they grumbled even as they gnawed away at it.

Just as they were in the middle of enjoying this small indulgence, two dignified carriages surrounded by maids and servants pulled up and stopped right in front of the gold shop.

With the nation now stable, the great clans that had fled Yandu earlier in the year — except for those entangled with matters of the previous dynasty who didn’t dare come back, and couldn’t — were, in the end, gradually returning.

Father always said these people were good for the economy.

And as these people returned to Yandu, the capital truly began to take on the air of an imperial city. These past few months it had become fashionable to outfit horses with elaborate gilded tack — headstalls, halters, breast straps, and all — a full set of a hundred and eighty-five pieces inlaid with gold and silver thread.

Chen Dasheng had once seen Zheng Aman’s full set — a hundred and eighty-five pieces, every one inlaid with gold, and as if that weren’t enough, further set with turquoise, coral, and colored gemstones, topped off with fashionable bright robes and flowers stuck in his hair.

Chen Dasheng hadn’t had the heart to say it, but watching Zheng Aman walk was like watching a caterpillar on the walnut tree back home — all those colors rippling and undulating. He had no idea what there was to be so pleased about.

The two carriages that had stopped not far from Chen Dasheng were much the same — though they were plain carriage horses, their tack alone must have run to several dozen pieces, all done in gold thread, without even silver inlay.

A little envious, Chen Dasheng touched his small pouch — he was careful with money, and it was still satisfyingly full inside.

The driver, sturdily built and respectably dressed, hopped down once the carriage had stopped, fetched the step-stool from the back, and set it in place before stepping aside.

Only then did a handsome-featured maid in light silk robes step forward to help down an elderly gentleman of some forty or fifty years, with three wisps of a long beard beneath his chin, wearing wide sleeves and a loose robe.

This gentleman was quite the dandy — his face was dusted with a touch of fine powder for brightness. Once down from the carriage, he stood with an elegant, unhurried air, waving a feather fan, waiting until his old wife and his two daughters had also gotten down, before swaying forward, his wooden clogs clacking, into the gold shop.

Neither Chen Dasheng nor Hu Yougui had any dignified pedigree to speak of, so they sat there like fools, gnawing melon and watching the spectacle. They watched the servants follow the family inside — and then a middle-aged man carrying a satchel on his back, clearly in charge of the family’s finances, a steward by the look of him, passed right by Chen Dasheng. The melon in Chen Dasheng’s hand suddenly dropped.

Chen Dasheng wasn’t one to get worked up so easily, and Hu Yougui, uneasy, called out, “Chief?”

Chen Dasheng sniffed, stood, and looked left and right before saying in a low voice, “I’ve spotted an old enemy. I’m going in to make sure it’s him — you go find out where they’re from.”

Hu Yougui nodded, and as he watched Chen Dasheng head into the gold shop, he turned with a grin, sidling over toward the two carriage drivers standing in the blazing sun at the street corner, and said, “Well now, travelers from out of town? Awfully hot day for it, isn’t it!”