On the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, the rear garden of the Xu household blazed like a river of stars.

The Grand Madam walked among the lantern-hung trees, one hand on Xu Sizhun’s arm, the other on Xu Lingkuan’s, laughing and chatting as she went, turning from time to time to exchange words with Eleventh Lady, Fifth Lady, and the others who followed behind. Children darted in and out among the glowing lanterns, squealing and playing — merrier, even, than the New Year.

Jiang Shi’s gaze drifted to Eleventh Lady.

She was responding to something the Grand Madam had said, a smile on her lips, her expression gentle and serene.

Who could not love a scene like this?

Jiang Shi let out a quiet sigh.

After the banquet ended, she gently said to Xu Sizhun: “Father-in-law and Mother-in-law are not particular about food or clothing. Will they not think this too extravagant?”

Xu Sizhun frowned slightly.

Since dinner had begun, his wife had been out of sorts. Even when she saw the lanterns filling the courtyard, her smile had become almost strained. And now this question…

He thought for a moment, then took her hand. “I know the silver was quite a lot to spend. But I did not touch the household funds — every bit of it came from our own private savings. I thought: now that I am married, I am grown. This is the first Dragon Boat Festival since our wedding, and the first birthday of Mother’s I have been here for. If I can give Mother a birthday gift that is truly special, she will surely be happy.” His voice softened. “I also wanted to make you happy… If you do not like this sort of thing, I will not act on my own initiative again. I will consult you on everything before I do anything — what do you think?”

Jiang Shi was alarmed.

By the sound of it, she seemed like someone who was reluctant to spend money.

“Making one’s elders happy is never a waste of money, no matter how much it costs,” Jiang Shi said quickly. “I only meant to say that gift-giving has its own art. If you match the gift to the person’s taste, the happiness it brings is of quite another kind. A sword for a hero, rouge for a beauty — these are things that could not be more fitting…”

“I understand what you mean,” Xu Sizhun said, a flicker of puzzlement crossing his eyes. “But Grandmother and Mother have seen so much of the world — rare jewels and fine silks, they have plenty of those and hardly treasure them. I thought about it for two months before I hit upon this idea, and then spent more than a month engaging three lantern shops to make them…” He smiled. “And you saw for yourself — Grandmother and Mother were both very happy. So they clearly liked this gift.”

Jiang Shi had no choice but to invoke Xu Lingyi. “If Father-in-law comes back and asks about it…”

“Then you have even less to worry about,” Xu Sizhun said with a smile, his brow smoothing as he dropped his voice. “Father once spent eight thousand taels of silver to buy Mother a full set of emerald jewelry. I only spent three or four thousand taels… Father, knowing that, will surely say nothing.”

An emerald jewelry set could be passed down as a family heirloom, but gauze lanterns — after two uses, they could not be used again. And besides, the family’s fortune had all been built by Father-in-law. He could use it however he wished. Xu Sizhun’s private savings came either from gifts from his father or from the funds left by his late mother… the two situations were simply not comparable.

“My husband…” Jiang Shi was about to say more when Xu Sizhun laughed. “All right, all right — stop worrying over nothing. Even if Father should blame me, I am here to answer for it. You just rest and sleep well.” As he spoke, his hand came to rest lightly on the swell of her belly. “You are not alone now. If you cannot sleep well, he cannot sleep well either…”

His words reminded her of another matter.

“My husband… would you like E’rui to come and attend to you…?” The words trailed off, her expression growing a little bashful.

Before their marriage, Xu Sizhun had taken his personal maid, E’rui, as a chamber attendant. After Jiang Shi wed into the household, she had quickly fallen pregnant. In such situations, it was customary for the principal wife — to prevent a chamber attendant who had grown up alongside the master from gaining too firm a footing — to arrange for one of her own personal maids to attend to him. But Xu Sizhun’s devotion to Jiang Shi ran deep, and she had seen that E’rui was an honest and simple-natured girl, so she had let matters be.

“No need!” Xu Sizhun tucked the covers snugly around Jiang Shi. “I will stay here with you — you are carrying our child.”

Jiang Shi’s heart was filled with sweetness, and the vexation of a moment before dissolved like smoke. She held her husband’s hand tightly, and the fatigue of walking through the garden with the elders soon drew her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Several days later came Xu Sizhun’s birthday.

The Grand Madam and Eleventh Lady discussed it together and invited relatives and friends to come. Three tables of wine were laid, and performers from a theatrical troupe were called to put on a show.

Drums and cymbals rang out on the stage; laughter and conversation filled the audience. Everyone ate and drank and was merry.

Eleventh Lady gave Xu Sizhun a small lotus-pod-shaped glass crystal cup, no bigger than a palm. “Your Fifth Brother helped me find it at a stall near the Gate of the National Temple — quite lovely, is it not?”

Xu Sizhun could not bear to put it down. “It is beautiful. I love it.” He smiled and thanked Xu Sijie.

Xu Sijie smiled, producing a blue-and-white porcelain lantern carved in openwork with intertwining flowers, about the size of a fist. “I saw this at Duobao Pavilion — I am giving it to you on Sixth Brother’s behalf.” He then brought out a sheepskin revolving lantern the size of a large bowl, painted with four views of Western Mountain. “And this one is mine. Like Mother’s glass cup — I found it at a roadside stall near the Gate of the National Temple.” He piled everything into Xu Sizhun’s arms. “None of it is worth much, but I thought it all looked rather charming.”

Xu Sizhun’s eyes shone. He looked at one and touched another, not knowing which to admire first. “I want to hang all three lanterns in my study… no, on the carved daybed in the heated inner room, so I can look up at them while lying there reading.”

“So long as you like them,” Eleventh Lady said with a smile.

While they were talking, Xu Sijian came running over. “My, Fourth Brother, you have done well for yourself. When will you treat us to a meal out?”

He was as fond of teasing people as ever.

“Of course!” Xu Sizhun said happily. “You name the place.”

“How about Cuihua Hutong?” Xu Sijian said with perfect gravity.

That was one of Yanjing’s most famous pleasure quarters.

Xu Sizhun’s face flushed crimson. “Let — let us choose somewhere else,” he stammered.

Xu Sijian burst out laughing and turned to the Grand Madam. “Fourth Brother knows that place!”

Even someone who had never heard of it could tell from his mischievous expression that it was no respectable establishment.

“Come here,” the Grand Madam called to Xu Sijian, beckoning with a finger. “I will teach you some manners.” She gave his ear a pinch.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” Xu Sijian clutched both ears and made an exaggerated show of agony. “Grandmother, please be gentle. I am after all a sixth-rank official. Where is my dignity?”

The room erupted in laughter.

Jiang Shi was somewhat disappointed.

She had seen Eleventh Lady give Xu Sizhun a collection of whimsically shaped yet inexpensive lanterns and thought she might use the occasion to tactfully counsel him. But Eleventh Lady had said nothing at all.

Hupo privately asked: “Madam, did you not say you wanted to remind Fourth Young Master of a few things?”

“I will find another opportunity,” Eleventh Lady said. “There are too many people here. He meant well, and I would not want him to lose face in front of everyone.”

Hupo nodded.

But before Eleventh Lady could find that opportunity, Xu Lingyi and Jin Ge’er suddenly returned home.

“Why did you not send a servant ahead with word during the night?” she said, flustered, sending the kitchens to prepare dishes, finding Xu Lingyi a change of clothes, giving their son a bath, and ordering the maids to take out all the clothes from their trunks to be washed and starched. “The household could at least have been ready. Was it not said you might not be back until after summer? Why the early return? Traveling in summer heat — how exhausting!”

“He Chengbi achieved a great victory in Fujian, completely clearing out the pirates from Pinghai Guard.” Xu Lingyi’s gaze on Eleventh Lady burned with intensity. “The Emperor has appointed He Chengbi as Military Commissioner of Fujian.”

Eleventh Lady did not know who He Chengbi was, but in recent years the sea campaigns in Fujian had largely depended on the Jing Hai Marquis’s Qu Family.

“Does this mean that from now on, the court has a capable commander for naval warfare?”

Xu Lingyi laughed heartily. “Exactly. And not only did he clear out Ping’an Sea — before that, he also cleared out Hengyu.” His joy was unmistakable. “I no longer need to stand in awe of the Qu Family.” He lay back in the pine bathing tub, gazing up at the two panels of bright tile in the ceiling of the bathhouse. “Twelve years…”

Some things were never forgotten.

The words drifted quietly through the steam-filled room, and Eleventh Lady’s eyes grew faintly tender.

“My lord.” She helped him scrub his back.

His back was all clean, powerful lines — broad and strong. She could not quite say why, but she always felt that those shoulders bore too great a burden, and she wished he could rest a little longer. As her cloth swept across his skin, she pinched the corners of it, as if afraid its very weight might tire him.

For a time, the bathhouse fell silent. Only the sound of each other’s breathing could be heard — yet it felt neither empty nor heavy. Each breath and exhale seemed to answer the other, call and response, question and reply, until gradually they fell into the same rhythm, and one felt entirely at peace.

“My lord!” came the timid voice of a small maid, breaking the quiet of the bathhouse. “The Prince of Yong is here!”

Xu Lingyi rose to his feet. Water cascaded around him. “Please ask the Prince to wait in the small study. I will be right there.” His voice was calm and crisp, yet Eleventh Lady’s heart began to beat faster.

As if he sensed her unease, Xu Lingyi turned and took her hand. “It is nothing. Our Jin Ge’er has not yet started a family.”

Eleventh Lady smiled and nodded, held Xu Lingyi quietly for a moment, then turned to fetch his change of clothes. “My lord, shall I bring your official robes or everyday dress?” Her voice was clear and steady, without the faintest ripple.

In mid-July, the Emperor, citing the poor outcome of the Taizhou campaign under Jing Hai Marquis’s supervision, issued three letters of censure in a single day — setting off a wave of impeachment and condemnation against the Qu Family both inside and outside the court.

The Jing Hai Marquis, past eighty years of age, traveled in person to the capital to plead guilty and died en route, in Guangze County at the border of Fujian. The Emperor showed no mercy on account of his death. Instead, as the Mid-Autumn Festival reunion approached, an imperial proclamation was posted at the Noon Gate listing thirty-six charges against the Qu Family. The family’s title was stripped, their assets confiscated, and their members either sentenced to execution after the autumn assizes or exiled. A fortune built over two hundred years was scattered in a single day.

The established families of Fujian were swept off the board. For the next five years, they had no strength to recover. But Yanjing had long since moved on to newer topics of conversation — when He Chengbi was commending his men for their meritorious service, the second son of former Fujian Military Commissioner Li Zhong, Li Ji, appeared conspicuously at the top of the list in first place.

Old matters were dredged up again. Li Zhong was recast as a tragic figure who had suffered an undeserved fate; Li Ji became the young hero who had restored his family’s honor.

“That He Chengbi should use him at all is remarkable enough. To put his name first on the list is something else entirely.” Xu Lingyi set down the court gazette and reclined at his ease.

Events were unfolding just as he had hoped. Beneath his composed expression there was an undercurrent of quiet elation that made him look several years younger.

“After so many years, the Emperor surely will not keep pursuing the matter of Li Zhong?” Eleventh Lady sat beside him, stitching a bellyband for Jin Ge’er.

“This is precisely the time when capable men are needed,” Xu Lingyi said lightly. “And besides, what happened to Li Zhong was always murky and unresolved. The Emperor will not revive it.”

As they spoke, a servant lad came rushing in, still catching his breath: “My lord, the Prince of Yong is here!”

—