By the time the Eleventh Young Madam had finished with everything, it was nearly time for the midday meal. She and the Third Madam hurried to the Grand Madam’s quarters, where the Grand Madam had already eaten and retired to rest, leaving dishes set aside for them. The two ate quickly and haphazardly; then the Third Madam pulled her away to attend to the year-end sweeping arrangements. By the time she returned to her own courtyard, it was already past the third quarter of the early afternoon hour, and Linbo was standing beside the kang attending to Xu Lingyi as he wrote something.

Seeing her come in, Xu Lingyi gave a nod and said, “You’re back,” then continued writing rapidly. Linbo, however, did not dare be remiss and immediately stepped forward to bow respectfully.

The Eleventh Young Madam went to the east washroom to change and freshen up. When she came out, Linbo was already gone; the kang table had been tidied neatly, though the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone remained on the small kang table nearby, and a few books had appeared at the head of the kang.

“What has my Lord been occupied with?” She smiled and greeted Xu Lingyi. “This wife was busy until noon, and then spent the afternoon with Third Sister-in-law arranging the sweeping preparations, and was unable to attend my Lord for the midday meal…”

Xu Lingyi was leaning against the large bolster at the head of the kang, his expression somewhat distracted. When he saw her explaining herself, he gave a vague nod and said, “I ate at Mother’s. Go about your business — there’s no need to worry about me.”

When they had parted, the Third Madam had arranged to meet her again first thing tomorrow morning at the reception hall to assign all the New Year tasks to the managing nannies — that would likely take a full day. She had brought this up with Xu Lingyi mainly to gauge his mood; now that she saw he had no objections, she felt quietly relieved.

Xu Lingyi suddenly asked her: “You once lived in Fujian as a child — do you still remember anything from that time?”

The Eleventh Young Madam felt a jolt in her chest.

*Why is he suddenly asking about this?*

“This wife was very young at the time — I no longer remember.” She kept her smile steady, though she was somewhat apprehensive. “Is my Lord looking to find something out? If so, I could send word and invite Father to come by the house for a visit?”

Xu Lingyi thought for a moment: “Never mind.” His expression held a trace of disappointment.

He clearly had been hoping to find something out, but was reluctant to go to the Old Master.

She thought of the Fifth Yiniang…

“If my Lord likes, I could make a trip back to my family and ask the Yiniang?”

“No need.” Xu Lingyi said, “You women — never stepping beyond the inner gate. Even if you’d lived in Fujian for ten or twenty years, I expect you’d have nothing to tell me. I’ll find another way.”

The Eleventh Young Madam smiled wryly, yet could not deny that he had a point.

Just then, Linbo came back in, holding a scroll, the excitement plain on his face: “My Lord — I found it!”

Xu Lingyi’s eyes lit up and he sat upright: “Bring it over.”

Linbo gave the Eleventh Young Madam a quick bow, then carefully unrolled the scroll on the kang table — it turned out to be a topographical map.

Xu Lingyi leaned forward and studied it intently.

Linbo stood to one side in respectful silence.

The room was so still you could have heard a pin drop.

The Eleventh Young Madam looked on from beside him.

Fuzhou, Guangdong, Guilin, Hangzhou… she also spotted Yuhang. It was a map of the four provinces of Zhejiang, Fujian, Guangzhou, and Guangxi.

*First he asks if I remember Fujian, and now he’s poring over a map…* What on earth was Xu Lingyi up to?

After a good while, he finally raised his head.

He found the Eleventh Young Madam’s clear, luminous eyes gazing at him with curiosity. Something softened in his chest, and he found himself explaining of his own accord: “Early this morning, Wang Jiubao sent a letter through Huang Yu.”

So that was what had taken him to the outer courtyard at the crack of dawn — a messenger sent by Huang Yu. Huang Yu was the Provincial Inspector of Zhejiang and a kinsman of Elder Liang — she knew that much. But who was this Wang Jiubao?

It took a moment for her to work it out.

Wang Jiubao was the greatest sea pirate of the southern seas. His clan and the Hou of Jinghai, the Qu family, had been adversaries for generations. He had recently been granted a general pardon.

Both Huang Yu and Wang Jiubao operated in the south, so it was understandable that they might have come into contact through mutual connections. But since when had Huang Yu become close enough with Xu Lingyi to act as intermediary, pleading Wang Jiubao’s case before him? And Wang Jiubao — a pirate chief — had written to Xu Lingyi; what could he possibly be seeking?

She looked thoroughly bewildered: “If Wang Jiubao needs something, why doesn’t Huang Yu seek out Elder Liang on his behalf — why come to you?”

*She always grasps the essential point quickly; talking with her spares so many words.*

Xu Lingyi couldn’t help but let out a long breath.

Ever since he had overheard the Grand Madam say yesterday — “and in barely three or four months, she’s already laughing and talking with the Eleventh Young Madam like old friends” — he had felt unsettled. Then, when he saw the newly changed bed curtains, the unease deepened, and he simply went to Qiao Lianfang’s quarters for the night. Yet far from feeling any relief, he felt even more out of sorts than usual. When he returned from the Grand Madam’s early that morning, he had wavered for some time before going back to the main room to take a midday nap. He woke before the first quarter of the early afternoon hour, his mind foggy and unwilling to open his eyes — and then, against all habit, he drifted off again. By the time he opened his eyes once more, it was already past the first quarter.

The bedding still held the scent of rose that she habitually used — wild and heady. He drew a deep breath involuntarily, thought of her skin, fine as porcelain… and his body stirred, following that fragrance into wakefulness. Just then Linbo came to consult him: “The personal attendant of Lord Fan is waiting in the outer study. He has to travel overnight back to Xuantong. Shall we let him go first?”

Not wanting Linbo to see him in his awkward state, he had Linbo move everything to the main room.

The expression of shock on Linbo’s face surfaced clearly in Xu Lingyi’s mind.

He felt thoroughly vexed.

Linbo had served at his side since the age of nine — it was now seven or eight years. In all that time, he had never once blurred the line between public and private like this…

“It’s nothing.” Xu Lingyi’s voice fell into unconscious coolness. “Wang Jiubao wishes to petition through me for the Emperor to organize a fleet and venture out to sea… I am currently relieved of my duties and at home — I declined.”

He instinctively did not tell the Eleventh Young Madam what had come after.

*If he declined, why is he still poring over the map of the Fujian region?*

The Eleventh Young Madam smiled faintly, but did not point this out, and did not press him further on the matter. She rose with a smile: “Let this wife help my Lord change clothes — it will soon be time to go to the Grand Madam’s.”

Xu Lingyi declined on instinct: “Just call in Chunmo or Xiayi.”

The Eleventh Young Madam could feel the subtle but sudden aversion he had toward her — it gave her pause.

*How could it be like this?*

*He was perfectly fine just a moment ago.*

This same shift in mood had happened once before — when he had stared at the newly changed bed curtains for a good long while and then abruptly gotten up and gone to Qiao Lianfang’s room for the night, his manner toward her had also changed. At the time she had supposed it was because she had so obligingly changed the bed curtains while he had nevertheless decided to sleep at Qiao Lianfang’s quarters — and that the contradiction had left him somewhat uneasy. Now it was clear that was not it at all…

Her heart quickened.

*Could she have unknowingly done something that greatly displeased Xu Lingyi?*

Though the bewilderment lingered, this was not the right moment to untangle it.

She smiled serenely, called Chunmo and Xiayi in, and seated herself on the kang lost in thought — not noticing Linbo, who had been standing to one side with his head bowed the entire time.

His face bore an expression of unmistakable astonishment.

*He hadn’t expected the Marquis to tell the Madam any of this.* Not even the Fifth and Third Young Masters were privy to such things when the Marquis spoke with them…

—

Returning from the Grand Madam’s quarters, Xu Lingyi went directly to rest in Qiao Lianfang’s rooms.

The Eleventh Young Madam sat with Hupo discussing the Spring Festival duty roster and did not retire until the second quarter of the night watch hour.

Her mind was entirely occupied with Xu Lingyi’s cold, distant expression.

*Where exactly had things gone wrong?*

She reviewed in her mind every event that had occurred since she entered this household.

Everything was moving in an increasingly favorable direction — no matter how carefully she examined it, she could not find anything that had been amiss.

The more she thought, the less she could sleep.

*Better to know than not to know.* Knowing, at least one could make corrections. Not knowing, and there was nothing to correct at all…

If there was any real friction between the two of them, it was in the matter of the bedchamber. But even so — hadn’t she been improving in the direction he preferred? Or perhaps, as the two of them had grown more familiar, her manner toward him had become less deferential? But she hadn’t been impertinent, and he had shown no sign of displeasure before…

The Eleventh Young Madam was completely at a loss. Then faintly, she sensed some movement in the courtyard.

At this hour, every courtyard was locked for the night — nothing short of something significant would bring a knock at the gate.

She rose, pulled on a robe, and stepped out of the inner chamber.

There truly was a sound coming from outside.

She called to Lvyun, who was on night duty: “…Did you hear anything?”

Lvyun tilted her head to listen: “It does sound like there’s something out there.” She pulled on her short jacket. “Madam, let me go and see.”

The Eleventh Young Madam nodded.

Lvyun went quickly; after some time she came back: “It’s the outer courtyard steward — he’s come looking for the Marquis.”

The Eleventh Young Madam’s heart thudded: “Do you know why?”

Lvyun shook her head: “I don’t know. When I went out, the Marquis had already left. The night-watch matron had locked the gate again.”

The Eleventh Young Madam was wide awake.

She returned to her room and had Lvyun bring in the embroidery frame, and she worked on her characters until the sky had begun to pale before feeling the first stirrings of drowsiness.

But it was already time to go and pay her morning respects to the Grand Madam.

She yawned her way to the washroom and rinsed her face. She hadn’t even had time to dress her hair when a junior maid came running in: “The Marquis is back!”

He had gone out in the middle of the night, and was only now returning.

The Eleventh Young Madam hurried out to meet him.

She saw Xu Lingyi striding toward her with an iron-dark expression, carrying in one hand with apparent ease a large, stuffed bundle of blue-patterned coarse cloth.

For reasons she could not explain, the first thought to cross the Eleventh Young Madam’s mind at the sight of that bundle was: *I never imagined Xu Lingyi had this kind of brute strength.*

Xu Lingyi saw the Eleventh Young Madam, his face like a layer of frost, and said coldly, “We’ll talk inside.”

Seeing that his expression was hostile, the Eleventh Young Madam kept her eyes down and followed him into the room.

He dismissed the maids in the room, then casually set the bundle down on the kang by the window of the inner chamber: “Find a few nannies who can hold their tongues and have them look after this for the time being.” As his words fell, the bundle came undone.

The Eleventh Young Madam stared, struck dumb as though by a thunderbolt, and for a long moment could not move.

Inside the bundle was a child.

Seemingly no more than two or three years old. Pale, small, and thin, curled up into a tight ball, indeterminate in sex. Dressed in a short jacket of crimson silk damask, clearly too small — stained all over with grease, the collar and cuffs worn smooth and shiny with friction, exposing a short length of thin, slender arm. Perhaps from the cold, the skin had taken on a slightly bluish cast. Hair a wild tangle on top of the head, giving off an unpleasant odor. The child was staring at her with wide, frightened eyes.

A roaring sound rushed through her head. Her mind was in utter chaos — and she pointed, helplessly, at the pair of phoenix eyes on that small dirty face, round and large: “What… what is this?”

—